


Juxtaposition

by BlastoffSir



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Depression, Disfigurement, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Light BDSM, Love Confessions, Minor Drug Use, Oral Sex, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Praise Kink, Rape/Non-con Elements, Romance, Self-Discovery, Self-Harm, Sexual exploration, Slow Burnish, Spit Kink, Suicide Attempt, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:47:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 26
Words: 132,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25755346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlastoffSir/pseuds/BlastoffSir
Summary: An AU where Radovid still reigns as a tyrannical King leading the slaughter of magical beings after the events of the Wild Hunt. When Yennefer is approached by an old acquaintance looking for aid in breaking out members of the Lodge from Deireadh Prison, she doesn't expect what she finds behind those walls. Now she must cope with new and confusing feelings for a familiar face, while tending to old wounds that threatened to reopen.
Relationships: Triss Merigold/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 238
Kudos: 311





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first Witcher fic! There are extremely adult themes, you have been warned, along with lots of canon divergence. I'm not sure of the length of this story yet, I will add additional character tags if they come. Enjoy!

With a soft breath she blew the flame on the candle, extinguishing it into rising smoky tendrils, creeping their way to the ceiling of the quaint shop. She breathed deep, the scents of her various oils and ingredients that lined her shelves filled her nose pleasantly. She couldn't help but feel drained after the long day, even if it had been relatively uneventful. It was why she so enjoyed life now, even if it was strange. Sitting still was never her forte, and boredom sought to drive her mad at one point.

Until everything that had happened leading up to this new life.

Life was simple now, without the complications that came with the company she kept. They couldn't be entirely to blame, of course. She had put herself in these situations after all, and allowed them to go on as long as she did. At least she took control that day in Skellige, on that wrecked mage's ship. Geralt may no longer love her, but at least she isnt living a lie anymore.

She tried not to let the outcome make her bitter, but bitter was something she specialized in.

In the end, when all was said and done, Yennefer bid her farewells to those she fought beside against the Wild Hunt to take up a life back home, away from the chaos and the things that hurt her the most. Away from Geralt and his wandering eyes, away from the lodge and their never ending, usually dangerous plots. Away from Triss Merigold, the woman she once called her closest friend and confidante, and the knot of betrayal that settled in her chest every time she looked her way.

It had only been a couple of months since then, mere seconds in the sorceress world, but the pain lessened with each passing day.

It turns out Geralt left her high and dry as well, once he was through with playing the both of them. She could be mad at Geralt, as he deserved it. But with Triss, the anger also served to hurt her deeply. She knew not where any of them were now, and she found she no longer cared.

She groaned as she stretched high above her head once she put the last remaining vial of potion back on her shelf. She was about to turn to head upstairs, to where she resided in the luxurious loft she made for herself above her little shop of magicks, when there was a tug at the already locked front door.

She let out a huff of frustration, "I'm closed for the day," she called out, not bothering to hide the annoyance in her voice.

She managed only the first step to the upstairs when a knock came, rapt and persistent. The bells hanging above chimed as they trembled against the wood. She felt her annoyance growing, and she turned and scowled at the door, "are you hard of hearing? I'm _closed_!"

She could see a silhouette on the other side of the stained glass window, the figure distorted by the reflective glass. The figure shifted as though impatient, onto the other foot.

"Now now Yennefer, is that any way to greet an old friend?" came the muffled voice from the other side.

That voice.

The headache that had been threatening her skull gave way, and a pounding began in her temples. The annoyance had turned into something like anger, coursing through her veins with every thud of her head. There was only one reason this voice would be greeting her at an hour like this, and Yennefer already had a snide remark playing on her lips as she debated on turning heel and going upstairs anyway.

She grit her teeth and conceded, making her way to the door of the shop. She had to admit her curiosity got the best of her, and besides, it would be nice to tell the woman where to go directly to her face. She swung the door open, leaning in the frame. She made no attempts to move or invite her inside.

"Philippa," she drawled, frustration laced in her tone, "to what do I owe the displeasure of your visit?"

Yennefer took in the sight of her, which was relatively unchanged. That was the way it was for sorceresses, the remained beautiful their entire long lives, and usually didn't change their styles up much. Yennefer still loved her black and white color scheme.

She wore a maroon and deep blue gown, tied at the middle with a silver buckle. Her hair still styled in twin braids hanging down her chest, the hair such a rich brown it looked almost black in the night. She wore her faint glowing headband around her non existent eyes, the enchanted fabric her only means of sight. Philippa had been on some sort of quest to regain her sight last Yennefer had checked, and it appeared she was still failing in that regard. Yennefer didn't know whether to feel smug or pity for the woman.

The other woman ignored her question, opting instead to gaze about the outside of the shop, her expression unimpressed. "So this is where you've been hiding. I must say, I wasn't expecting one of the worlds most powerful sorceresses to be peddling cheap potions and love spells out of a rickety old shop but here we are."

Yennefer sighed with contempt, "if you've come all this way just to try and insult me for something I _chose_ , you'll be sorely disappointed by my lack of reaction. How did you know where I was, anyway?"

Philippa harrumphed, "because you're predictable, Yennefer. I knew you would most likely end up back in Vengerberg, escape to the safe familiarity. I just wasn't expecting this." She gestured to the shop, and Yennefer couldn't help but seethe where she stood.

" _Enough_ about my lifestyle. If you don't tell me why you're here, you can consider this conversation over." She knew what Philippa was doing, dancing around the real reason for her arrival to torment Yennefer. What she could never comprehend was how Philippa expected to get anywhere with anyone when she displayed such utter disrespect.

"My, you're awfully prickly for someone in retirement." Yennefer continued to stare daggers at her, "well aren't you at least going to invite me in?" still nothing. Philippa sighed, "it's a sensitive matter, Yennefer. It would do well to have this conversation indoors."

Yennefer let out an audible groan of frustration, not hesitating to let her displeasure be known as she pushed herself from the doorway, making way to let the woman inside. She closed and locked the door behind them, watching as Philippa gazed around the room with the same bored look as before, but at least this time she held her tongue. Yennefer was not embarrassed by her new lifestyle by any means, but she would not tolerate Philippa trying to make that happen.

"Come, let's go upstairs," Yennefer mumbled as she pushed passed Philippa, who began to follow her up the creaking steps.

Upon entering her living area, it was like a whole different world than that of her modest shop downstairs. She enjoyed her space, but detested clutter. Marvelous white marble floors paved the living area underneath an expensive black fur rug. A fire was already roaring on against the far wall, where two large armchairs sat behind a dark oak table. She had her bedroom and a spare room down the hall, though she never saw any visitors, and Philippa Eilhart would _not_ be staying.

"Now _this_ is more like the Yennefer I know," Philippa said smugly behind her, "I see you haven't succumbed to humbleness completely."

"There's nothing wrong with having nice things, Philippa," Yennefer responded evenly, "you should try it sometime."

It wasn't as if it was hard for Yennefer to obtain coin. After their defeat of the Wild Hunt, together they had made quite the fortune from armor and weapons alike. Not to mention here in Vengerberg her shop did more than well, as magic was still looked to as an aid to society here, unlike Redania. She was left with more than enough to splurge on her home the way she wanted to, and maintain her lifestyle.

Philippa said nothing to her remark and Yennefer took it as a small victory. The other woman was already moving to sit in one of the chairs, but she chose to remain standing. She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the mantle.

"So, what's this big secret? Still trying to revive the Lodge? I assure you my answer hasn't changed in that regard."

Philippa's brows furrowed, "you're not going to offer me a drink?"

Yennefer's hands went to her temples, massaging the aching pulse underneath her skin. Her jaw clenched as she spoke, "you've been here all of five minutes and you've already gotten on my nerves more than once. Tell me why you're here Philippa, or so help me God."

The other woman smiled suddenly, though it was not a pleasant one. It was the one she wore when she was scheming, and she already knew she wasn't going to like what the woman had to say.

"I regret to say that I find myself in a situation that could use your… _assistance_."

Yennefer scoffed; if Philippa Eilhart thought she could just march into Yennefer's home to ask for her help, she should know that she was wasting her time. She wouldn't mind watching her beg for it, though she doubted the woman would ever stoop to such a level.

"This is about the Lodge. My answer is no, I will not be joining your organization of shady dealings and merciless plotting. Nor will I aid in your revival of it."

Philippa looked annoyed, as much as she could without her eyes, "will you be _quiet_? It's not about the revival of the Lodge, not exactly."

"Not exactly?" Yennefer scoffed again in disbelief.

Philippa's jaw set then, and it was slightly unsettling to see the woman so unnerved when she usually masked her emotions brilliantly. In fact, she couldn't recall the last time she had seen any form of emotion whatsoever in her. It seemed that she only lived and breathed for politics, and Yennefer assumed this should be no different, until this look of pain had crossed her face.

"You know Radovid continues his genocide of magical beings, yes?"

"Of course, everyone is well aware. I've heard he's now turned his attention to dwarves and elves alike. I hope you've had enough sense to finally get yourself out of Oxenfurt."

Philippa looked to the fire now, watching intently as the flames danced and licked their way upwards, "I did, but I'm afraid something has come up that requires my return."

Yennefer waited for her to continue, her mind trying to come up with it's own explanation, but she found herself at a loss. Philippa, a proud woman, wouldn't normally come to anyone asking for help in anything unless it was truly needed, let alone someone like Yennefer's.

"Margarita and Sheala have been arrested, and are currently held in Deireadh prison. I'm sure I don't need to explain to you what that entails."

Yennefer's heart sunk and she felt her eyes slip shut on their own accord, letting out a painful sigh. "Oh _God_ , what were they thinking? The both of them, in that area?"

Philippa gave an indifferent shrug, "they had heard of Triss Merigold's plan to evacuate the mages from Novigrad. They were apprehended before they could make contact with her."

" _Shit_ ," Yennefer cursed under her breath, at a loss for words otherwise. She knew what Philippa expected of her now, to assist her in breaking them out of prison. She also knew of Philippa's motives, for it was known that Margarita was in full support of bring the Lodge back, something the other woman could not do without that support. She assumed Sheala was already on board as well.

"You only need Margarita for the Lodge," Yennefer couldn't help but hiss, directing her anger towards Philippa, "could you really care enough to risk your own life for that?"

Philippa looked thoughtful for a moment, "while it's no secret, Margarita's importance to the Lodge, you couldn't possibly believe that's all this is about? She is one of us, Yennefer, and yes, there is an _us_ whether you like it or not. I like to think that when it comes down to it, we take care of our own. Similar to how I assisted you and your witcher's predicament with the Wild Hunt, thus saving the woman you've come to see as a daughter."

Yennefer shook her head in disbelief, "you don't need to guilt me into helping you. What, were you just waiting, holding this over my head until an opportune moment came along?"

"Something like that."

Yennefer groaned and began to pace the room, on the brink of throwing the insufferable woman out. It angered her more that Philippa was right and had now trapped her. She was right to believe that Yennefer may have denied her, though, had she not reminded her of her assistance with the Wild Hunt. She had no intentions of helping Philippa even if it meant leaving Margarita to rot in prison. These sort of things weren't supposed to be her business anymore.

"I would hope if you were coming to me you would already have some sort of a plan laid out. You realize none have escaped Deireadh? It's not as though we can just teleport anywhere near there, the place is a fortress," she stated as she turned from where she was pacing to see Philippa still sitting calm as ever.

"There is one," Philippa said flippantly, "a vagrant by the name of Abbe Faria. I managed to track him down at a tavern in Oxenfurt," she ignored the incredulous look on Yennefer's face, "apparently, there is a way in through the sewers at the river. That, and the guards frequent the drink on their shifts."

Yennefer scrunched her nose, "the _sewers_? And I don't suppose you'll just change into a bird and fly right on through while I'm stuck knee deep in filth?"

Philippa smiled, making the vein throb in Yennefer's head.

"I don't know about this…it's bound to be more than just a few drunken guards. This is the prison where Radovid keeps his most valuable captives. I think you're in over your head."

"I'm aware of the risks, and frankly I don't care," Philippa said with a dismissive wave, "I've worked too hard for Radovid to come along and fuck everything up. I know you don't directly get anything out of this for yourself, I too am an opportunist, so I would understand if you don't want to assist me. But I will be going, regardless."

Yennefer let her eyes slip shut again as she weighed her options. Damn Philippa, her life had been so peaceful until she had shown up on her doorstep. It wasn't beneath her to not care what happens to any of those who are simple minded enough to want to revive the lodge, but she couldn't deny the aid Philippa had provided in their fight to keep Ciri safe. She also couldn't deny that what was happening to the non-humans was an abomination, and she had a sneaking suspicion she would be filled with remorse living with the knowledge that she didn't try.

If anything, it might be good to get out of the house.

"Why my help?" Yennefer asked, narrowing her eyes.

"That's a stupid question. Without our dear hunky witcher I need someone to keep any creatures we run into at bay. You're a powerful sorceress, I'm sure it wouldn't be anything you can't handle."

"But you don't trust me," she pointed out.

"No, not generally. But I do with this. I don't think you want the girls in there as much as I do."

Yennefer already knew she was going to give in and agree to go with her, not feeling like she had much of a choice in the matter. She knew the woman was right, and that this was only the right thing to do. But it was dangerous, and Yennefer was no fool just to let Philippa use her and not get something out of it.

"I want payment."

" _Payment_?" Philippa scoffed, "look at this loft, I don't think it's coin you need. Besides, one might say you owe me this, wouldn't you agree?"

Yennefer shook her head, "we had the army of Nilfgaard to face the Wild Hunt, you were hardly in danger. You're asking me to walk into almost certain death, at the hands of a madman no less."

"You're doing this just to spite me. You know very well we were nearly killed in Skellige."

"Maybe I am."

Philippa looked like she might get out of her chair and storm away for a moment, until she gritted her teeth and breathed hard through her nose, " _fine_. We'll determine your payment in accordance with how difficult this ends up being. Don't expect much if we're in and out."

Yennefer pinched her nose, trying to alleviate her headache, "when did you want to do this?"

"Let's go back to Oxenfurt tonight. I have a hideout there, we can get the preparations done and then plan for the following night."

"You certainly don't waste any time," she grumbled, "just let me go pack and we can be on our way."

She laughed to herself as she went down the hall and to her wardrobe. "This is madness," she muttered, still unsure as to why she was even going. It was true, she didn't need the coin. But something was telling her she needed to do this. She never had much of a sisterly bond with the rest of the sorceresses, save for Triss perhaps. Maybe something within her felt obligated to help Margarita and Sheala. It's not as though she could use the excuse of having something better to do, either.

She threw some clothes haphazardly into a pack; it wasn't as though she would be there long, no matter what the outcome.

She returned to find Philippa already standing, "We'll teleport to the hut and be on foot from there. It's not far from the rivers edge."

"Awfully risky camping out so close to Radovid and his soldiers," Yennefer chided, "it's a marvel you're not locked up with them."

Philippa waved her hands through the air, her hands crackling with electricity as she conjured a portal for them.

"What is it they say? High risk, high reward?"

* * *

They arrived at the hut in the dead of night, not a sound to be heard other than the odd howl of a wolf in the distance. The moon was high, lighting the area around them in it's pale glow, shimmering on the waters surface down the hill. They were just on the outskirts of Oxenfurt, buried in the side of a small cliff, overlooking the flicker of the city lights below.

"I assume this place is enchanted?" Yennefer said as she scrunched her nose at the old hut. She suddenly wished she had stayed home.

"Of course it is," Philippa replied, "and fear not, it is far nicer inside."

Sure enough, upon stepping over the rotted threshold she was taken into what was actually a nice room, surely due to the enchantments of course. Dark hardwood stretched the length of the floor of the open room, two beds sat in the furthest corners. In the center, on a large maroon rug, was a round oak table, candles alight on the top.

She noted the alchemy set up to the left of the doorway.

"Not bad for a hermit," Yennefer chuckled out the back handed comment which Philippa chose to ignore. Instead, the other woman opted to pull a large screen from the wall, separating the two beds with as much privacy as a thin sheet could.

"It's late. Tomorrow, we will work on concocting some potions and amulets, anything that may assist us with getting inside. We should bring something for immediate medical requirements, I would imagine the girls might be a little worse for wear."

"It's been months since Triss got the mages out of Novigrad," Yennefer pointed out, "how can you be sure that they're still alive?"

"The vagrant told me so," Philippa replied, earning an incredulous look from Yennefer. It was utterly ridiculous for her to trust the word of some starving homeless man. "And it's a chance I'm willing to take. If there's one thing Radovid enjoys it's torturing his victims. My guess is he wouldn't allow them to die any time soon."

Yennefer kept the rest of her doubts to herself as Philippa blew out the candle and strode to her side of the curtain. She had a moment of humor when she contemplated whether or not Philippa brought her all the way up here to try and kill her. Of course, she would disintegrate the woman should she ever have the guts to try.

She sighed as she undid her black leather gambeson, releasing the tight lacing that held it together. Left in nothing but her underwear she slipped under the soft sheets, trying to ignore the nervous waves crashing in her stomach. She rarely felt overwhelmed, especially given everything she had faced thus far. But something about this prison had her on edge, perhaps it seemed too simple when examined by Philippa.

She tried to force herself into a fitful sleep, taking comfort in knowing that if it didn't work out, she could at least rub that in Philippa's face.

If they both lived, that is.

Philippa must never sleep, and she must definitely not care for the sleep of others, for it felt as though Yennefer had just closed her eyes when she was already jolted awake by the sound of the screen crashing back to the wall.

"Get up, Yennefer, we have work to do," she said shortly. Yennefer was regretting this trip more and more as the minutes spent with Philippa dragged on.

"You asked for _my_ help," Yennefer said hotly, "the least you could do is treat me with the respect I deserve. I am not beneath you."

Philippa said nothing and she was glad for it. Yennefer was no stranger to her own temper, and she was actually surprising herself with the amount of resolve displayed since Philippa's arrival. If she continued to push her, she would be on her own, and she doubted she would be able to get through the prison herself. Perhaps if she stayed as a bird she would, but she couldn't very well open the cells and get the women.

She must have understood Yennefer's worth after that, for she stayed quiet throughout most of the day, save for small and necessary conversations. She was expecting her to be shoving the Lodge down her throat, or try some sort of manipulative tactic to use Yennefer for something more that she had not yet revealed, but it never happened.

They spent the morning preparing various healing potions and salves, knowing the injuries they were likely to encounter, if not on themselves, then on the two woman held captive. Yennefer had gathered some items from her shop before they left, and had been working on a little project of her own.

"Here," she said to Philippa, who was bottling her last poison antidote. She handed her an amulet, a deep purple stone on the end of it as thing as an arrow, "snap that in half and you'll be invisible as long as you move slowly and quietly. Don't engage with anyone or anything. We can use them once inside, and we should at least get to the cells without being noticed. Once we reach the cells we will have to become visible, so getting back out may be tricky."

Philippa looked impressed, as much as the woman would allow herself to, anyway. "Look at the big brain on Yennefer," she remarked in awe, prompting an eye roll, "these will make matters easier by far. Though getting out was always going to be the biggest hurdle. I don't suppose you have any more of these lying around?"

Yennefer narrowed her eyes at the woman, "those aren't easy to make, you know. No, I don't have any _lying_ around," she spat.

"Pity," Philippa drawled, "I doubt it will be safe enough to portal us out of there either. I'm not worried about it. If we get inside, we can get back out, and I'll obliterate anyone who tries to stop us."

Yennefer ignored the urge to point out that this was the prison where they held beings like them. Maybe not exactly like them, none quite so powerful, but they had the training and weaponry to take on magical beings, and Yen was sure there was no bounty higher than Philippa's.

Throughout the rest of the evening they poured over the maps of Oxenfurt, the prison location, likely guard posts and routes, and the entrance along the riverbank. The prison itself was just around a kilometer away, they would have to go on foot from here.

Nightfall had finally arrive, and Yennefer's heart began to thrum at the prospect of looming danger. It reminded her of being on top of Kaer Morhen, her arms reaching to the sky as the Wild Hunt rained down upon them. Her magic had never felt so draining, so powerful, not since Sodden Hill. It ached her bones and squeezed at her organs but she admittedly never felt more alive.

And while she planned on exerting no such energy tonight, it felt strangely nostalgic to be in on another plan of attack.

Philippa at least had the curtesy to teleport them to the bottom of the cliff, and they began to trudge through the shrubbery towards the river.

"Any plan if things go south in there?" Yennefer asked as she ducked under a branch. They had reached the waters edge, the surface shining as it did before. Glancing around she saw not a movement in sight, and continued in the direction of the prison.

"If things go south, we're all dead. I don't intend on giving Radovid the satisfaction."

"You're insufferably confident, as always."

"It's got me where I am today. I would say I'm doing something right."

"I still think you're overestimating your vagrant and underestimating your enemy. I have a feeling you're leading me into a death trap." Yennefer sighed, her feet softly squishing into the damp sand.

"And yet you're still here, so you must have some belief in my cause," Philippa said evenly.

Yennefer couldn't help the glare she shot into the back of her head, "I have no belief in any cause of yours, Phil. I'm trying to do the right thing."

Philippa snorted, "I didn't receive news of your newly thawed heart, Yennefer. There is no right and wrong, only survival, and the survival of the Lodge will always be my priority. Since you're feeling so sentimental now, perhaps you can patch things up with your witcher-"

"-I have no desire to speak on this," Yennefer cut her off, "that part of my life is over. I'm here to help you with your suicide mission and get the hell back to Vengerberg."

"Yes, it always was a rather touchy subject, wasn't it? Have you seen Cirilla since White Orchard?"

Yennefer felt her stomach knot up at Phiippa's mention of her daughter. It was no secret that Philippa practically drooled at the prospect of having a child of the elder blood as a member, she had already tried to sway her in Novigrad. But Ciri had made her proud, standing up to the sorceress the way she did.

"She has written," Yennefer said carefully, "but she is on the Path now. It's where she belongs, where she's happy."

"Yes, I'm sure she is."

She was glad when the conversation died down after that. She wasn't comfortable discussing Ciri with the woman. In fact, there wasn't much she was comfortable with sharing. Philippa was just the type to probe, to see what she could get out of people. Yennefer knew better than to give her the satisfaction.

Thankfully, they had reached the sewer, jutting out of the side of the hill and into the river. The grate was already missing, probably due to the vagrant that had escaped. Philippa watched her from the corner of her eye.

"This passage should lead straight to the prison. The only problem being, I'm not sure where inside. We will have to figure that one out ourselves. There could be some drowners along the way, but nothing overly impeding. Are you ready?"

Yennefer couldn't help her look of disgust as she peered into the dark sewer, listening to the echoes of sludge drip from the ceiling.

She suddenly heard a small commotion beside her, a buzz, and she turned to Philippa with her mouth agape, "don't you _dare_ -"

With a flash of light Philippa was already flying off in owl form, down the cavernous sewer, the sound of her wings all that was left of her.

" _Stupid bloody bird_ ," Yennefer mumbled to herself, as she took her first step into the muck below.


	2. Chapter 2

Philippa Eilhart, the current bane of her existence, was cursed with every step through the muck of the sewer. The place smelled of decay, and she was almost thankful for the poor lighting, for she wasn't sure she would continue if she could see the filth currently engulfing her leather boot.

She could still hear her wings flapping ahead, stopping every so often to perch on a torchlight. Yennefer fought the urge to throw a glob of the mud all over her pretty white wings, her own disgust would not allow her to do so.

The tunnel had been winding, every wall looking the same as the last corner had. Thankfully, she hadn't encountered any beasts at this point. She was no witcher, but she could hold her own again whatever ghouls may lurk in the sewers of Oxenfurt.

The deeper she delved into the passage, the more remnants of creature activity became clear. Mutilated bits of drowner were seen in the faint light of her magic, some more in tact than others. She stench of decaying flesh and stagnant sewage was almost unbearable and she contemplated more than once to turn back and leave Philippa behind, but she was no runner.

She reached a crude hole in the wall, having not much time to note her surroundings once she heard a scuffling from down the passage hall. She ducked behind a supporting pillar, removing her dark hood as she lowered herself to a crouch. She had no idea where Philippa had flown off to, seemingly ahead of the danger like the selfish witch she was.

Peering from the pillar she saw the twisted shapes not twenty feet from her, the way they stood on their gnarled haunches and the snap of their jaws told her they were likely ghouls. When one caught the light, her suspicions were confirmed when she saw the mangled flesh that hung from them, as though they were the rotting corpses they feasted on.

She grit her teeth; one ghoul was dealt with easily enough, they did not see very well, especially in the dark. But they had an exceptional sense of smell, and it wouldn't be long before they tracked her. Ghouls were pack creatures, and she was counting at least three from where she squat. If she didn't act now and they managed to surround her, she could find herself in a bad situation.

From where she was she couldn't see much out about their forms, their silhouettes distorted in the fading light against the crooked walls. She hoped they would be malnourished and on the smaller side, but she didn't have much time either way. They pawed their way towards her, their jaws snapping hungrily.

She caught the glint of a canine as she shifted her weight from the pillar, the light in her hands growing with intensity as chaos began to crackle between her fingertips. The beast nearest her let out a throaty roar, its muzzle dripping with reddened slime, before it was lit up in a flash of ethereal light.

Putrid smoke filled her nose as the trio of unholy creatures were decimated, the chaos tearing through their bodies as though they were nothing, exploding outward in a mist of pink innards and bone. It was over as abruptly as it began, her pupils retracting from their dilated form as the rush left her body.

With a breath she went forward, trying not to look too pleased with herself as she stepped over the steaming carcasses. The water began to recede around her ankles as she walked the upslope, and a light glowing off the rust colored brick of the walls near the top. Rounding a corner she saw a grate ahead, blocking further entry, but there was another hole in the wall to the side, with a terse looking owl perched on the rubble.

"Thanks for the assistance, Phil. You could've flown back and told me about the ghouls," she hissed, crossing her arms in front of her.

With a shuffle of her wings the owl leapt from the wall, it's wings extending far beyond their reach as they twisted into arms, the rest of her form elongating into that of a human. With a small flash of light her face grew, resembling her sour being once again.

"Don't tell me you had trouble?" Philippa muttered.

Yennefer chewed the inside of her lip, her impatience growing, "not at all. Is this it?"

The other woman glanced at the opening behind her, "it is. It's time, we must break the amulets. There's guards just up in that room. It's the body pit the vagrant spoke of, since his escape it appears they have it under guard."

"Alright, remember, don't move too quickly. They last plenty long if you use them right, we shouldn't have a problem finding the cells." She nodded to Philippa and snapped her amulet. A tingling sensation washed over her and she watched as her hands turned strangely transparent, before disappearing before her eyes completely.

Together they went through the hole into the lit up room. A mage hunter sat lounged by the fire, clearly dozing off. Philippa was right, it was apparent that these guards frequented drinking on their shifts. Apparently things got boring in Deireadh.

They crept into the shadows where the existing door was. With all the care in the world, she gently tugged on the latch, opening the door as silently as possible. Successfully, they entered the stairwell, and she carefully set the door back in place. She squinted through the dimmer light, taking in the storage boxes around her. She heard a creak, assuming Philippa was ascending the stairs and she began to follow. Philippa opened the next door just two flights ups, only slightly, peering through to see what was on the other side.

She closed the door.

"What is it?" Yennefer whispered.

"It's the cells, believe it or not. But there are at least three guards moving about in there, we will never get them out unless we kill them. I can only assume one of those boors has the key on them."

Yennefer couldn't believe the luck of reaching their destination so quickly, and it was safe to say that the Deireadh prison needed to repair it's walls. "Won't they raise the alarm?" she questioned.

"We're invisible," Philippa stressed. She felt Philippa reach for her then, clutching her arm as she shoved a dagger into her palm, "we just can't move very quickly, right? You take one, I take one, then whoever gets the last one, I really don't care."

"Philippa.. " she groaned, not exactly jumping at the idea of slitting a mans throat.

"Stop with your moral dilemmas Yennefer, we do what we must. Let's go."

She creaked the door open again, holding it open for Yennefer to slip in behind her. She shut the door silently, again. She felt a slight shove from Philippa, telling her to go left, and she begrudgingly obliged. She also reminded herself to never aid the woman with anything in the future.

She tiptoed through the corridor, trying to ignore the cells she passed along the way, not wanting to see what lurked inside. She found one of the guards, he was facing towards her but of course he could not see. She set her jaw and forced to slow her breathing as she ghosted close, her hand gripping the hilt of the dagger tightly.

She was mere feet away and she stepped slightly to the left, watching his face for any indication that he suspected something was there. But he had the same bored look on his face as he sucked his teeth disgustingly, and Yennefer was almost glad for what she was about to do.

Standing next to him now, his eyebrows twitched as his inhaled her scent that he was surely now aware of. Lilac and gooseberries, it would be the last enjoyment of his life. He turned in her direction, his face contorting into confusing as he basically stepped into the raised blade, all she had to do was push forward.

She plunged it deep and twisted, the breath that was in his throat _whooshed_ forth as he was cut wide open. Once the air passed he began to gurgle and choke, thick red rivulets of blood began to spurt forth as he desperately tried to breathe through the liquid. He was heavy, but she did her best to lower the brute to the floor with the least amount of noise as possible. He looked around with wild eyes, clearly stunned at the lack of attacker before him.

She left him retching quietly on the ground, it was not long before he went silent. She rounded the corner he had been guarding when she swore under her breath.

It looked like she would be taking care of the other guard as well.

She repeated her previous actions, trying not to gag as the smell of copper filled her nose and the warm liquid covered her hand. She had been sloppier with this cut, anxious to get him out of the way, and managed to butcher him a little more than the first.

She didn't feel bad about it, only about her poor sleeves.

With him too, on the floor, she moved a little quicker to regroup with Philippa. This cellblock was rather small, and she had a brief moment of dread when she realized Margarita may not even be here.

" _Yennefer_!" Phillipa hissed from down the block behind her, and she turned to go back the way she came. She found Philippa in the center of the rooms, back in solid form, signifying the absence of more guards. She removed her amulet too, running over to where she stood.

"Philippa?" a small voice came, from a few rows down. They exchanged looks of understanding as they rushed forth towards the sound.

"Margarita?" Philippa called as they approached her cell. Yennefer felt a tug at her heart upon seeing the state of the sorceress. Her green dress was tattered, stained with blood and filth. Once beautiful, curled blonde tresses were now matted and dull. Her porcelain skin, marred with bruises and angry looking lesions. The biggest change was the look of defeat behind her dead eyes. She couldn't help the gasp that escaped her, her hand coming to her mouth involuntarily.

"Where's Sheala?" Philippa asked softly, and for a moment Margarita said nothing. Instead, she visibly swallowed, as though trying to force cement to her stomach. She shuffled to the side and this time, Philippa gasped as well.

Sheila's form lay curled on a filthy mat on the floor, unmoving. Yennefer couldn't see her face, but she could see the skin of her arm.

Unnaturally pale.

The way she lay so still, almost rigidly so, wasn't as someone with life coursing through their veins would lay.

"Is she…?" Philippa hushed, her voice trembling with anger. Margarita could only nod, tears filling her eyes. Philippa cursed and looked away, a hand coming to pinch at the bridge of her nose. Yennefer couldn't help but feel sorry for her in that moment, feel sorry for them all.

Philippa whirled around then, her jaw set in new determination as she began to unlock the iron door, "come, let's get you out of here. We don't have much time-"

"- _wait!"_ Margarita hushed, her eyes wide, "what about Triss?"

Time slowed for a moment after her name left her mouth. As though the words were having trouble registering in her brain, and she looked helplessly to Philippa who seemed to be enduring the same struggle. She racked her brain, _Triss is in Kovir. She is the Kings advisor. She went to Kovir with the rest of the mages. She left, she's not here, she can't be._

Philippa's hand went to the bar as she leaned in close to Margarita, looking almost intimidating. Her voice was a death whisper, "what?"

Margarita swallowed again, looking fearful, "sh-she was brought here a few weeks ago. Phil-"

"Where is she?!" Yennefer slammed a hand on the bar, her voice sounding unlike her own as she was overcome with panic.

"Yen…I…I don't even know if she's alive!" Margarita rushed, stumbling over her words, "I…I heard the guards…they did terrible things to her, a few days ago. I h-haven't heard from her since!"

Yennefer closed her eyes as she felt rage beginning to consume her, " _where is she for FUCK SAKE!"_

"D-Down that hall s-somewhere! I can't see her!"

Yennefer was already taking off, snatching the keys from her hands and not bothering to see if Philippa was following her. She had taken a left when she came in, and she presumed Philippa had gone straight if that was where she found her. She went as though she would have taken the right instead. She tried to ignore the fact that she might have very well walked on by Triss as she was avoiding looking inside the cells.

Now she was desperately stopping at every one of them, grabbing the bars frantically to stop the momentum of her movements, before launching herself forward again. Her heart was in her throat when she found the cell with the small lump curled in the corner, and she was seized with a dread that broke out in the form of sweat and weakened knees.

_No._

_No, no, NO!_

One might not even be able to recognize her, through the blood caked on her face and the swells of the welts and lesions that littered her skin. She herself could only tell by her unmistakably beautiful red hair, looking as though it were drenched it was so saturated. It was as though she had been bathed in blood, there was not an inch of her untouched by the red liquid, it splattered the walls, it pooled underneath her.

"Gods, no," her voice quivered as she struggled to unlock the door through trembling motions. She yanked the heavy door open and rushed to her where her crippled body lay, skidding to a frantic stop as she kneeled down. Her hands ran gently over her, unsure where to start, unsure where the injuries even began there were so many. Her eyes raked over her body, desperately searching for signs of life. She tried to carefully turn her, when something caught her eye.

She retched.

Where Triss' left hand should have been, there was no hand at all.

 _Gone_.

She curled into herself, placing a hand on her abdomen and heaved violently. The air that forced it's way from her lungs felt like liquid fire. The lining of her stomach stretched again, as though threatening to spill forth the entire contents within. She desperately shook her head and swallowed hard, blood roaring in her ears. Half of her battled to gain a grip on herself while the other reached for Triss, gently forcing her arms under the frail women to pull her to her.

"Triss?" she begged tearfully, "it's Yennefer. Are you with me, Triss? We're taking you from here."

She listened, as she pulled Triss even closer, straining her head down trying to hear for any sounds of life, any indication she was breathing.

Triss let out a weak gurgle, choking on the blood in her lips, but Yennefer breathed a sigh of short lived relief.

" _Philippa_!" she called, failing miserably at suppressing her panic..

"I'm here," her voice came from behind her, startling her slightly. She wondered just how long she had been standing there. She looked over her shoulder to see her in the doorway, her face taught with masked anger. Yennefer felt it too, but now was not the time to let their emotions get the best of them. She threw the key to the cells at Philippa's feet.

"Get Margarita and conjure a portal to Vengerberg," she said quickly, unable to hide the panic in her voice.

"I can't teleport all four of us to Vengerberg, it's too dangerous," Philippa snapped back, and Yennefer already knew what Philippa was trying to do. Even now, she was thinking of the Lodge, not wanting to bring Triss to Vengerberg. Time was too short for arguments, and there wasn't a chance in hell Yennefer was about to allow Triss to receive medical care in that shack of hers.

"She's _dying_ Philippa! She needs proper care and I have the means to do so at my shop. Now fucking conjure the portal or I will do it myself and leave you here!"

She didn't wait for Philippa's answer as she wrapped her hands under Triss' nude body, lifting her into her arms and standing. Yennefer was stronger than she looked, and Triss was quite small, even more so than before. The bastards must have been starving her.

Triss groaned faintly again before going silent, her eyes remaining shut. She heard the sound of footfalls as the two other sorceresses rounded the corner.

"Hurry!" Yennefer cried as she cradled Triss to her, not missing the look of annoyance on Philippa's face. With a wave of her hands she began to conjure the portal. It would take longer, more concentration, to teleport the four of them as far as Vengerberg, and she knew she was being hard on Philippa. They weren't left with any options at this point, Triss was very much on the brink of death.

Sweat poured from Philippa's brow as she shot her hands forward, the large gaping portal whirling through the air.

" _Now!"_ the other sorceress shouted as Margarita rushed on through, with Yennefer and Triss behind her. With a grunt of effort Philippa launched herself in as well.

Yennefer shut her eyes as her feet smacked the ground roughly, the momentum forcing her to her knees. She groaned and opened her eyes to see they had landed in the town square, not far from her shop. She had to admit she was mildly impressed with Philippa's abilities. She looked ahead and saw Margarita picking herself up shakily from the ground. Philippa placed a rough hand on her back, "let's go," she gasped breathlessly.

Thankfully, still being nightfall, they didn't encounter a soul as they darted through the square towards her home. She fumbled the key in the lock, trying to support Triss' weight while simultaneously not injuring her further, before Philippa groaned and assisted her for the first time that night.

They burst over the threshold, Philippa smartly locking the door behind them. It was dark, but with a quick wave of her hand the candles were alight again, the fire roaring.

"Margarita, go have a lay down over there," she said nodding to a chaise lounge, "Philippa, clear the table, just throw it off."

Happily, she waved her hand, sending expensive vials and silverware clattering to the floor, but she didn't care. She needed to tend to Triss down here in the shop, where all of her ingredients were readily available.

"Blast her allergy to potions," Philippa grunted as she already began to search for salves as Yennefer lowered her gingerly on the table. She couldn't help but stop and look at her face for a moment. She was so battered, it scarcely looked like her, and she found herself wishing she would open her eyes just so she could see the cornflower blue of them again.

"We need to see to her arm," Yennefer rushed, as she began to remove the shoddy bandages that had been haphazardly tied off at the end like a crude tourniquet.

It was like a knife to her chest when the cloth peeled from her flesh, and she smelled the wound immediately. Not overly strong, but certainly infected. Underneath all that blood, she must be deathly pale. Her hand was sawed off crudely just below the wrist, then cauterized by what she could only assume to be a torch to prevent her from bleeding out. Perhaps they even gave her something to keep her alive throughout her ordeal, because Yennefer couldn't see how it was possible she survived this.

She was at a loss.

"We're going to lose her," she said quietly, surprised at how her eyes filled with tears.

Philippa stopped whatever salve she was making to furrow her brows at Yennefer, before storming over to her and moving her from the way.

"We're not losing her," she said angrily and she concentrated her hands above the bloodied stump, mumbling some sort of incantation. Her hands began to glow with golden tendrils of light, seeping forth and dancing across the flesh.

"I'll have to remain here a while," Philippa whispered, "continue mixing that paste until it's fine. Dress whatever wounds you can find."

Yennefer did as she was told, trying to ignore her doubts. Because regardless of what she believed this outcome to be, she would try for Triss. She would never forgive herself if she didn't.

But she looked dead already.

She began to spread the green paste over a large laceration above her brow. She moved on to her lips, her cheekbone. The more she looked the more she found, ones she hadn't seen before. She had bruises across her breasts, and marks that looked frighteningly like teeth.

The nausea began to come back as she let her gaze travel lower, fearing the worst of her suspicions were to come true. Black and purple down her legs, she pulled them apart gently, noting the ones on her inner thigh.

Human teeth.

Blood.

She choked back a sob but Philippa had heard it, and she saw her head snap in her direction through the corner of her eye. She had brought a hand to her mouth as though it would take the noise back out of the air, but it was far too late.

"What is it?" Philippa said quickly, fear evident in her voice.

But Yennefer was frozen, and began to shake her head like a child would. Her hand remained in place, her eyes transfixed on the floor.

" _Yennefer_ ," Philippa warned.

So she swallowed, running a gloved hand still slick with blood through her hair. It didn't matter anymore.

Blood was everywhere.

"She's…" she choked on the words again because they did not want to be said. But she had to say them, had to force it. "They raped her, Phil."

She didn't care how her voice trembled with emotion when she said it. Philippa didn't either. She turned white, and she swore she saw the tremble in her jaw, but she said nothing more. Instead she looked back to her hands still focused on Triss mangled arm.

Would Triss want to live after this? Could she?

Yennefer tried not to have that debate with herself as she resumed applying the paste to prevent further infection. It would be far easier if she wasn't allergic to potions, but here they were, having to handle it the old fashioned way.

She joined Philippa in her healing spells, focusing on the nasty gash on her face. She knew if Triss survived this she would not want to be left with a marred face, as the rest of them wouldn't either. Philippa knew this, and didn't protest. To her delight the wound was sealing before her eyes, and she knew it wouldn't leave a lasting mark.

Not like some other parts.

For her arm, she poured a cleansing solution over the wound as Philippa continued her spell. She then also did some healing to any other cuts she could find, there was no shortage of them. By the time she had finally moved on to dressing the wounds, the pair of them were breathless and gleaming with sweat.

Philippa's hands were now trembling, and she collapsed back with a grunt of effort. For a moment they said nothing, panting into the quiet air as they stared at the still body before them. The question of what to do next hung in the air between them, making the tension thick now that the adrenaline was wearing down.

"That's about all we can do for her now," Philippa said, the statement obvious. She knew where it was leading.

"Triss stays here." She said quietly, though she didn't hide the venom to her words.

Philippa barked out a humorless laugh, "I think not."

"The deal was to help you get Margarita out of prison, _not_ Triss. Think of it as my payment."

Philippa turned on her then, her brow furrowing as her lips curled into a sneer, "And I suppose you think you could possibly take care of her? Please, you hate her Yennefer, ever since your little love triangle with the witcher. The last thing she needs to see when she wakes up is your bloody judgemental face looming over her. And let's not ignore the fact that Triss will not handle these new alterations to her appearance very well. You recall how she was after Sodden Hill, yes? Indeed, how she hates those scars. Tell me, because I am rather too curious for my own good, how you're going to deal with her emotions when you're clearly too ill prepared to deal with your own."

Yennefer's blood began to boil at the scathing insult, especially after everything she just went through for the woman. Even in her weakened state she felt her magic coursing through her, the chaos itching to burst from her fingertips into the woman's face, "The only thing I'm ill prepared of, Philippa, is my patience for you. You're no longer needed here, and you may steal Margarita away so you may plot about your business with the lodge, but you will not be bringing Triss with you. I know that's the only reason you truly want her anyway."

Philippas hands clenched at her sides, mimicking Yennefer's own. She was sure Margarita was looking wildly at them now, probably hoping Philippa would blast her into oblivion.

"Pity, because I'm not leaving without her."

"When she wakes, if she wants to run back to you she will be free to do so. But until then, you'll just have to go without your little pet I'm afraid." She enjoyed the way Philippa's face twisted into anger at her words, "Oh yes, I know all about the things the two of you used to do. It must have hurt when she finally broke free from your hold over her and went to Geralt."

"It must have hurt you too," Philippa hissed back, and Yennefer had to admit she had walked into that. "and if you think you know so much you must know that she came to me as recently as Skellige, before our fight with the Wild Hunt."

Philippa began to smile dangerously as Yennefer could only stare daggers at her, "yes, do tell her I'm looking for her when she wakes. I can guarantee she will come back to me, because I can give her something you cannot."

Yennefer said nothing, in fear that she would lose control, that she would kill this woman in front of her.

"Relax Yennefer, you can keep her if you're going to start a fight over it, since it strangely means so much to you. I have no doubts that she will come looking for me as soon as she is able. Though I can't help but wonder what your own motives are, I feel the least you could do is indulge me."

Yennefer was unsure what to say, for she truly didn't know why she would care what Triss would do with her life after the falling out they had. She did hate the woman, but after seeing her like this, it made everything they went through seem so insignificant in the face of death. Geralt was just a man.

And Philippa was a predator, and the last thing Triss needed was to be in her care.

Ultimately, Yennefer was afraid to lose her. Afraid to lose the woman she had once been so close to, who she called her friend. She didn't deserve to die, and she didn't deserve what happened to her in that prison. She liked to think that Triss needed someone like Yennefer now.

Or maybe Philippa was right, maybe she was just being selfish, and Triss would resent waking up to her. She wasn't sure how Triss felt about her anymore, as she never bothered to discuss it with her, her pride and anger too great for resolutions.

She was thinking too far ahead, when Triss still might not make it through the night. Perhaps they would talk about it, if it ever came up.

Perhaps they wouldn't.

"I want to focus on her recovery rather than her value to an organization," Yennefer seethed, "this conversation is over. I want you to leave my home."

Philippa towered over her then, the taller woman she was. For a moment she thought she _was_ going to start a fight with her, and her fists clenched again, unafraid and refusing to back down.

"She's not out of the woods yet. If she dies, I will hold you responsible." Her voice was a whisper as she delivered her poorly disguised threat. Yennefer said nothing, for in truth she couldn't be sure if Triss would survive, and Philippa knew this. They stood locked in a stare down for a moment longer, violet orbs focused on glowing cloth, before Philippa turned to where Margarita was still sat with her jaw on the floor.

"We're leaving," she said as she held up her hands to conjure a portal, "I'll be seeing you soon, Yennefer."

Her words sounded like a promise, and Yennefer could only hope it wasn't too soon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure you all noticed magic works a little differently in my story, they are much more flexible with their abilities lol. It is an AU after all :D Enjoy!

Yennefer released a breath she had been holding fast in her chest as the door closed in it's frame, the bells tinkling loudly in her ears as the noise pierced the quiet air before falling silent once again.

And then she was alone with her.

She shuddered and didn't dare look over, not yet. Now that she was left alone, her feelings were beginning to surface, threatening to boil over the walls she so carefully put up. She wore her pride like armor, and she would never admit to Philippa the possibility that she was _right_ , then Yennefer was hopelessly ill prepared to take on this role.

She took a deep breath, feeling the discomfort of her heart lessen slightly. Triss was not like them, like herself and Philippa. Resilient and unwavering they stood when faced with the brutal injuries they too endured. Philippa had her eyes gauged out, and she still remained steadfast in what she thought was her purpose, treating it as though it were a mere minor inconvenience. To this day, she swears she will regain her sight.

And Yennefer was nothing if not guarded, and not much affected her anymore after the things she has lived through. Seeing Triss in her current state rocked her in a way she had not felt in recent memory, the brutality of her abuse sent shivers down her spine.

But Triss wore her heart on her sleeve. She could never be as calculating as Philippa or as cold as Yennefer. The burns that left scars on her chest were a major insecurity for her, and now they seemed so insignificant.

Triss lost her hand. How will she cope when she wakes? Will she even remember, or will Yennefer have to tell her, breaking the news to her as gently as someone like her knew how? She had no idea what words she could say to alleviate the inevitable pain to come.

This is why Triss needed her now. She couldn't afford to let her personal barrage of confusing feelings of past hatred and new nurturing get in the way of what mattered most. There might not be a Triss to care for come morning.

So she forced her gaze from the window, where the silver of the moonlight drew her in, and back towards the bloodied woman still on the table, still lifeless save for the small shuddering breaths that were barely heard.

It was late, it had been hours since they had arrived back from the prison. If she had to guess it would be nearing morning by now, but her work wasn't done. It pained her to see the filth that layered her, making her look grotesque, as though the injury's were still open and bleeding fresh. She tore her eyes from her as she suppressed a yawn, crossing the room to fill a wash basin with warm water. She couldn't very put Triss in a tub as she couldn't support her own weight. Besides, her arm needed to remain clean, and dirty bathwater certainly couldn't be good for it.

She glanced around the shop as she conjured the water, trailing her hands over the surface making it steam. Her shop would have to remain closed for the time being, as Triss would take up much of her attention. That was alright with her, though.

Which was what was strange about the whole thing. Yennefer couldn't deny the anger she felt when she thought of Triss and Geralt. It was very confusing, her emotions were at war with themselves, torn between the empathy she felt for her now, and the raw betrayal she felt before.

Right now, Triss needed her. But what about when she didn't, anymore? Would they be able to salvage their friendship after such a harrowing ordeal? Would Yennefer even _want_ to?

The prideful, petty bitch inside her said there was no way she would ever forgive Triss Merigold for hurting her so. For making her look so utterly foolish. But time had passed, and her ache for Geralt did too, and now Triss was nearly dead and a very large part of Yennefer screamed to let go of these misgivings, to shed that hard exterior and give in just _once_ , for life was far too short.

She brought the basin to the table. She figured she could at least wash the woman's hair, then get some fresh water for her body. She would have to work fast, though she was unconscious, she was surely cold naked on that table.

Triss would be utterly embarrassed to know of her state of dress right now, but Yennefer wouldn't want her to feel like that. Even now, she was beautiful, and she could see the appeal Geralt must have had when she had a moment to see the woman's figure-

She shook her head. Now was not the time to be ogling the woman, and knowing that she did at all filled her with slight shame, a feeling Yennefer was not accustomed to.

She gently lifted Triss' head as she removed the hair that had gathered under her. There was a lot of it, certainly enough to reach the basin. She dipped her hair in, the water immediately turning into a murky red. Rubbing some soap in her fingers she went to work lathering the once silky tresses, detangling any knots she could find. She did her best with the ends, and once finished she used the water in her palms to wet her roots, massaging the lather gently into her scalp, careful to feel for any bumps as she did so.

She wondered if Triss would even remember anything, perhaps she wouldn't if she had any brain injuries.

She toweled her hair, and she couldn't help the upturn of her lips when she saw the end result. Her hair looked like hers again.

She ran her fingers almost forlornly through the dampened strands, finding herself hoping that Triss can come to terms with her marks, that she would find a way to stop being so damn self deprecating all the time. It made Yennefer roll her eyes before, when she heard of Triss' deep insecurity regarding her scars of Sodden Hill. She couldn't help but feel like the woman was seeking attention, pretending to be some innocent damsel with low self esteem, vulnerable to predators.

No wonder she went to Philippa. To Geralt.

But now she might see the woman in a new light, and it almost was enough to anger her. Because she had every right to be angry, and now it was just gone, and part of her wished to be mad all over again. It was better than hurting.

Yet somehow, Yennefer couldn't find that coldness within her. She searched, but came up with nothing. On the outside, it would have looked pathetic to her, to care for the woman who trifled around with her own lover, the woman who betrayed her and broke her trust. But she didn't feel pathetic.

She freshened the water again, gathering as many cloths as she could find on the way back. And so begun the meticulous task of wrapping the cloth around her finger and dipping it into the warm water, before scrubbing gently at the skin around her cuts. _Dip, scrub, dip, scrub_. It wasn't long before a completely reddened towel was tossed. Then two.

She wasn't sure how long she hunched over the woman repeating the process, until she had an entire heap of bloodied cloth. She noted the pale blue of the sky outside, and not an hour would pass before the sun was risen. She had done all she could for Triss now, she would have to get some rest if she were to continue her healing spells, just a few hours was all she needed.

She leaned back to admire her work; Triss was far from clean, but until she was conscious and able to bear some of her weight she wouldn't be able to bath her properly. She might be waiting awhile, her right knee was terribly swollen as though it had been shattered by blunt force, an angry blackened color. Still, it was leaps of progress than when she had first laid eyes on her.

With the last of her strength she held her hands in Triss' direction, lifting her into the air gently. Her magic carried her up the stairs, like a floating angel, before she brought her down the hall and into the spare bedroom.

She carefully lowered her to the lush bed, cradling her bad arm by the elbow as she did so, searching for any hint of movement in the woman's features but to her dismay there was none. She lay as still as she always did, looking just as lifeless.

The drawn black curtains gave the illusion of nightfall, and Yennefer quickly found her eyelids beginning to grow heavy. She drew the sheets and blankets up to the red heads chin, hoping that her body would find some warmth soon.

She realized she couldn't very well leave to her own bedroom. It would probably be a little terrifying if Triss were to wake up in this strange place to discover her hand missing. She would probably assume she were being held captive by a psychopath.

Her bed being far too large to be dragged or even levitated into here, she opted for the chaise lounge by the fire. She wasn't complaining, being far too exhausted to even know the difference.

She shed her clothes and moved the lounge so it face the sleeping woman, letting her eyes linger on her still form a moment longer. Her body screamed at her to lay down and rest the aches that embedded into her muscles, but her mind was telling her to go forward.

Her footfalls padded softly until she was back at Triss' bedside, her heart thrumming in her chest. She wasn't sure why she was so nervous, perhaps it was because she felt awkward. Comforting someone wasn't her strong suit, but she had her moments with Ciri. She was learning, that in a world that had been harsh and unforgiving to her, didn't mean she couldn't have a little compassion for others, something she never thought she would bother with for a million years.

She took her hand, the only one she had left, and cradled it softly in both of her own, her thumbs running gentle circles into her palm.

"I don't know if you can hear me, Triss," she started in a low voice, her eyes never leaving the woman's face, "but I want you to know I'm here. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you anymore. And…"

Philippa's words echoed in her head, the _last thing she needs to see when she wakes up is your bloody judgemental face looming over her_.

"…and I want you to know that I'm not here to speak on anything that happened. I'm here to care for you, as a friend should. Nothing else matters anymore. Though I do apologize if this isnt the place you'd prefer to be…" she swallowed, her voice becoming tight in her throat, "…but I'm trying my best."

She let her hand slip from her grasp, watching as it fell, limp.

She glanced to the filthy pile of clothes, still caked with mud and grime from the sewers. Normally, Yennefer would be appalled to track such dirt into her home, let alone walk through it. Now, she was glad she did. She gathered the pile in a basket back in her own chambers, and with a wave of her hand her leather boots were clean.

The sun was definitely up now.

She decided to bathe in the morning instead, another strange feat for Yennefer, but she just couldn't take consciousness any longer. She needed to escape, reset, so the cloud of her mind could be lifted allowing her to think clearly. She wouldn't be much use to Triss like this.

Stretching out on the lounge, she groaned as she felt her muscles tug, the aches of the night hitting her like a war hammer. She pulled the blanket over her and turned, keeping her eyes on the woman in the bed, still in wonder to see Triss Merigold back in her life.

In such a state, no less.

She couldn't say how long she stared, or how long her thoughts ran until they were nonsensical.

She waited for movement, and she drifted off into black disappointment.

* * *

It was late morning when she woke, if the sunlight pouring through the edges of the curtain was any indication. It was a moment before she realized where she was, when she stretched her limbs she felt her feet hang off of the edge unlike in her bed. Her eyes flew fully open as she leapt from the lounge, crossing the room in an instant.

She tried to stifle the defeat she felt gripping at her chest when she saw Triss remained unmoving. Her pointed freckled nose, her bruised lips, all remained the same. It was as though she hadn't even changed positions the entire time.

She noted how her hair clung to her face, and with a furrowed brow she pressed a tentative hand to the woman's forehead.

She was on fire.

_"Shit,_ " she cursed under her breath, she was a complete fool for even thinking that falling asleep was a good idea. She had no idea when the fever had set in, how long she had been laying there burning.

Philippa was going to kill her.

She hurried to her chambers to find a robe before flying down the stairs of her shop. She grabbed the regular ingredients she had used to treat fevers, she couldn't give Triss a potion but she could give her this. A mixture of coriander along with some other basic herb extracts, and her own healing magic would have to do. Before she left, she made sure to soak a cloth in freezing water.

Back at Triss' side, she held the bowl gently to her lips, praying she would swallow as she tipped the liquid gently inside. She knew she was taking a risk with this, but if she didn't break the fever none of it would matter anyway.

There was a weak bob of her throat-a gurgle-and the liquid was gone.

She breathed out a shuddering sigh, before yanking down the blanket exposing Triss' chest, glistening with sweat as was her face. She first tended to her arm; gently unwrapping the bandages she had put on the night before, she noted that the wound definitely looked better. The sickly green color that had spread around the edges was gone, and she was relieved she wouldn't have to amputate further, as it was a very real possibility last night.

The wound had also begun to close around certain small areas. Healing magic was exceptionally efficient, and it would be the only thing that could help Triss now. With one hand, she braced herself and allowed the golden tendrils to flow freely from her fingertips, the fluid light tumbling over Triss' wound. It was still incredibly painful to look at.

With her free hand, she reached for the cold cloth, and gently brought it to the woman's chest in hopes to soothe her heat.

When she made contact, Triss let out the softest whimper.

Yennefer's heart hammered as her eyes flew to her exposed arm, the one missing her hand, and back to the woman's face and for a moment, she prayed she wouldn't open her eyes. They were still shut, but her brow had furrowed slightly, and her lips parted to let out another small whine.

"Triss?" Yennefer said tentatively.

Triss lips moved slightly, and Yennefer remained frozen before she realized she was trying to say something. Or she was saying something. She leaned closer, desperate to hear her.

_"…T-Tissaia…"_

_Tissaia?_ Yennefer's brows furrowed in confusion, waiting to hear more.

Triss stirred slightly, _"I…I don't want…I can't do it…please…"_

Yennefer realized the fever had made her delirious, and she seemed to be stuck in some dream of Aretuza. She watched entranced and she continued to whisper nonsensical words, her speech ranging from Aretuza to her horses, even Ciri and the mountains of Kovir. For minutes on end she would be silent, leaving Yennefer to wonder if she was conscious or not. Even when it seemed like she was, sense never came.

All the while she remained with her healing spells, so entranced in Triss' speech she hadn't even noticed her energy waning. Her voice was light, as it always was, though it sounded parched and sore. She wished she would wake properly, as she was in desperate need of fluids.

She whispered softly back to her when she couldn't take her curiosity any longer. She needed to see if she could get through to her somewhere through her fevered delusions.

She pressed the cloth to her neck, eliciting a soft gasp from the red head, as she leaned closer to her, "Triss, can you hear me? It's me, it's Yennefer."

For a moment she heard not but soft breaths in her ear, then, " _Yenna_ …"

She hated how her heart tugged at the old nickname, but was too shocked to dwell on it further, "Yes, Triss, it's Yenna." She continued slow and gentle strokes of the cloth, up her neck and between her breasts, coaxing her to say more.

Her breath ghosted on her ear, " _I…I remember…your voice…"_

Yennefer was surprised at the small smile that tugged at her own lips, "I've been here with you. I'm not going anywhere."

She felt the heat radiating from the side of Triss face, now pressed against her own. She moved the cloth to dab at her forehead, trying to soothe her best as she could. She was faintly aware of her own sweat breaking out as she continued to heal her arm.

_"I…I wanted you…I wanted you to…"_

Yennefer was now thoroughly perplexed, and beginning to wonder if she was talking to a lucid Triss or simply feeding a delusion. Her curiosity got the best of her, "you wanted me to what?"

For a while, she heard nothing but steady breaths, albeit a bit fast. She thought Triss might have fallen back into her deep slumber, and almost went to move away until-

_"…I…I wished it was you and I…with that…Djinn…"_

Yennefer froze, unable to fully comprehend what she just heard. She felt her muscles stiffen, as though she were electrocuted, and despite her trying she couldn't shake the strange feeling coursing through her body. Triss' words were more than unnerving, and she was struggling to find purpose in them.

Surely, she had to take whatever she said with a grain of salt. She was delirious, obviously. It was entirely possible, with a slight chip of her heart, that she had been speaking to Geralt in her fevered dream.

But she found herself hoping she was wrong about that, regardless.

But if she were wrong, who could she have been referring to? Surely not herself, it wasn't very plausible for Triss to be talking to her.

Could she?

Yennefer suddenly wanted out of that room. It was now stifling, as though Triss words were still weighing heavily in the warm air. She needed to get away from the strange scenarios the woman was rambling about, she would need to clear her head if she were to make any sense of them.

With a grunt of effort she broke off her magic, the golden tendrils fading away like a dying light. She stood panting for a moment, watching for any reaction from the slumbering woman. She was met with nothing but the faint whisper of her breathing, her delirium must have receded for the time being. She pulled the sheets back up to her chin, hesitating a moment to push a strand of red hair from her face.

Her hand lingered.

Her breath caught her she retracted her hand abruptly, as though she was burned. Unable to bear her own confusing feelings any longer, she turned on her heel, fleeing to the confines of her own chambers and hated herself for it.

She filled her tub with steaming water, her bath long overdue at this point. With a clench of her stomach she remembered she still had the stench of Deireadh prison embedded into her hair and skin. She poured her favorite scented oils into the water, before shedding her robe and submerging herself into the inviting pool.

She moaned as the water lapped at her shoulders, though she knew she couldn't remain in here long. It was funny, as soon as she had left, she had this protective urge to immediately return to her bedside. And Yennefer didn't enjoy feeling this way. She usually had a plan, a way out, whatever answer she needed was within her reach. But now her life felt dizzying and not her own, and the looming sense of the unknown was unsettling to her.

She needed something to do, something to occupy her mind to prevent it from running further amok, to keep herself in the controlled state that she was accustomed to. She was stricken with an idea, stemming from an inner monologue she had when healing Triss.

She had been pondering different ways Triss may find to concentrate her magic again. Without one of her hands, she wasn't sure if she would be able to use what remained for magical purposes. If there was some way she could provide some sort if prosthetic that would allow her to channel her magic through it, she might regain both use of her "hands" in that sense.

She decided she would pay a visit to the local blacksmith. With newfound vigor and purpose, she finished cleaning herself and readied for the day. Giving herself a once over in the mirror, she thought it wise to check in on Triss before she left. The smith was just across the road, she wouldn't be gone long, but she most certainly wouldn't be going if she found the woman awake. On a last thought, she rummaged through the drawer of her dresser, finding the tape measure she required.

She creaked open the door of the spare room, peeking her head inside. The lump under the sheets remained motionless. She crossed the room, confirming her suspicions upon seeing her sleeping face. She couldn't help the forlorn smile that tugged at her lips. She knew she couldn't give Triss the gift of her hand back, but perhaps she could make things just a little more bearable. She hoped Triss wouldn't take her gesture the wrong way.

She gently lifted her good arm, wrapping the tape measure around her wrist and took note of the measurement. She tucked her back under the sheets, and with a final look she was hurrying out the door, not wanting to be gone long.

It was late afternoon when she stepped out into the busy street, most folk sidestepping quickly to get out of her way. She was quite renowned around Vengerberg, and most knew of her status. Well earned, she might add.

The blacksmith, Ailbert was his name, was of dwarven descent along with his inherited flaming red hair. He wore a wool cap, making it as though his bushel of a beard was growing out if it, his charred face barely visible. He saw her approaching, and shot her a large toothy grin.

"Madam Yennefer!" he exclaimed as she reached him, "is there something I can do for ye'?"

She glanced around at the many patrons happening by, and the look of understanding was already on his face before she even said the words, "Ailbert, it's a pleasure. I was hoping you could, actually. Would you mind if we spoke in private?"

"Of course, of course," he said jovially as he set down his smithing tools, "come, follow me out back."

They walked around the small stone building, to his stable area. None were around other than a young stable hand too far away to overhear.

"I noticed yer' shop was closed t'day," he said, "is everything alright?"

She sighed, "something came up that required my attention. I'm not sure when I'll reopen, but for now my time cannot be spared. It's part of the reason why I'm here, and I hope I can count on your discretion."

"On my honor, Madam Yennefer," he replied as they sat at a cracked stone bench near the house. He turned to her, his brows knitting together in an expression of concern, "I hope it's not too serious?"

Yennefer stared off at the muddied water in the center of the yard. In the distance she heard the clopping of hooves. The wind picked up, bringing with it a sudden chill, and she hugged her coat a little closer to herself. It would soon be winter, and she wondered where Triss would be when that time came.

She glanced back towards her building, "I'm afraid I can't be long," she started with an apologetic look, "a friend…a _dear_ friend of mine has suffered a rather grievous injury at the hands of the witch hunters in Oxenfurt."

Ailbert spat on the ground, disgust evident on his face, "aye, those whoresons. Now they're onto killin' dwarves, elves, whatever have ye'. Someone oughtta string that so called King up by his prick."

"None would be more delighted than I," she said distractedly, "now their injury, they've lost the use of their hand-er-that is to say, they no longer have one."

Ailbert shook his head, shooting her a sympathetic look, "Tragic, that. How is yer' friend now?"

Yennefer's heart clenched, and she couldn't help but wrap her arms a little tighter around herself. Triss was alive, true, but it would be when she woke when the true battle began. There was no telling how Triss would be when that time comes.

"We're hoping for the best," she said carefully, "the reason I came to you is because I was hoping you could help me make their life a little easier. Maybe in the form of a prosthetic, of sorts."

He rubbed his beard thoughtfully, the lines of his forehead creasing, "Well, yeah, I don't see why I couldn't. It would be the same basic principal of craftin' a gauntlet, perhaps with some lightweight filler. Hmmm…yes, perhaps we could attach it ta the arm by a strap, or a clasp of sorts..."

"There was something else," she said hurriedly, "regarding their magical ability. I can't predict they will be able to channel any magic through the remaining arm, but, if there is a way to do so, would you think it possible to enchant the gauntlet to reflect the casters own spells?"

He sucked at his teeth as he continued his deep train of thought, "it's… _possible_ , though there be a lot of variables. As you say, it sounds too early ta tell. I do have the experience of craftin' armor using glyphs. Perhaps with a glyphs assisted power, maybe it'll help, maybe not. I should tell ye' of an Ofieri man I know. Sells only the best quality runes and glyphs, but it'll cost ye. Are ye willing ta take that chance?"

"Yes," Yennefer said quickly, "cost is of no issue. I want the best quality possible."

"In that case, I should ask ye' what be yer' choice of material?"

"I think it would be far easier if it were to be lightweight, but strong. Practical…" she thought for a moment, "…and elegant. Nothing bawdy like solid gold or a hundred jewels. Something that could be appreciated as beautiful, but not boastful…for a woman."

He gave her a twinkling smile, "aye, Madam Yennefer, I would be honored to craft ye such a gift. Yer' friend is truly lucky to have ye'" Yennefer's stomach had a strange sensation when he spoke those words, "do ye' have the measurements?" she nodded as she slipped him the parchment.

"Good, it'll be a few weeks yet, gotta wait for the materials, but I'll be sure ta come round' when I have it finished. I'm sure you'll be pleased."

She gave him an appreciative smile, thrusting a large coin purse into his hands, "thank you, Ailbert. That should be more than enough to cover the job and your discretion. This is important to me."

His eyes widened at the size of the purse, before he began to nod furiously, "yes, Madam Yennefer. It will be my top priority and my vow of silence. Ye' needn't worry bout' a thing."

She bid him farewell and was already rushing back across the street. She had only been gone maybe ten minutes at most, but she couldn't help the unsettling worry in her stomach. With each day it was as though her thoughts became less and less rational.

She was greeted with silence when she ascended the stairs of her shop, and she quietly walked to the room where the broken sorceress lay. As suspected, she hadn't awoken, though Yennefer was relieved to find it to be true.

It wasn't late by any means, and her bandages didn't need changing quite yet. It would be smart for her to save her strength and heal her in the evening, but she found herself at a loss for what to do. She hovered a moment over her sleeping form before beginning to feel awkward, and she paced back towards her own chambers when an idea came to her.

She crossed the hall to her room, heading purposefully to the bookshelf. She scanned the titles, unsure of what would be a good thing to read to someone like Triss. She honestly didn't know what the woman was interested in, and she had nothing that had anything to do with healing. She opted for a more morose read, reflecting her current emotions.

Clutching her old copy of Lara Dorren and Cregennan of Lod, she went back to the sleeping sorceress. She pulled up the chair and sat at her side, and with a final mournful look to her sleeping form she opened the book and cleared her throat quietly.

"Love knows no bounds, the saying claims…"


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I'm posting a day early because I'll be super busy next couple of days. Enjoy!

Two days passed, and Triss wasn't awake.

Yennefer wasn't very alarmed, for she knew the milk of the poppy she had been giving her each night caused severe drowsiness, but she couldn't have her waking up in pain either. Still, she had a feeling she would wake soon, the anticipation was nearly killing her at this point. That, and the unease of the conversation that was to come.

All the while she continued to spend pain staking hours healing her to the best of her abilities. Every morning, every night. She would apply new paste to her wounds, and redress them with fresh bandages. Every day, more of her color returned and the wounds looked better, even if she still had a long way to go. It was worth all of Yennefer's efforts.

And as was ritual with her bandages, so was reading to Triss in the evenings. At first she had felt a little ridiculous, but soon she had lost herself in the story and the glow from the fire, and now it came almost naturally. She couldn't tell if Triss could hear her, but she liked to think she enjoyed it. She wasn't sure whose benefit she was doing it for at this point, for she found it aided in keeping her grounded, and she almost came to look forward to the evenings now.

As the sun set on the third day of Triss' stay with her, Yennefer finished on the carefully wrapped bandage around her arm after a three hour healing session.

She was exhausted.

She stretched to the ceiling, her joints popping as she groaned. She dabbed at the sweat on her brow with a handkerchief, and reached for the book despite her fatigue. Tucking the sheets back under the red heads chin, she sat at her usual chair, trying to ignore the ache in her back as she did so.

"Okay," she sighed, flipping through the large book, "What then came to pass? Here elven and human sources diverge, presenting two irreconcilable versions. According to the chroniclers of the Aen Seidhe, 'Her pleas did not soften the stony dh'oine hearts, the-'"

"Yenna?

She nearly dropped the book on Triss' lap, the sound of her voice clearer than before and she snapped her head in the direction of the sound. A voice she had not heard in months, not since Skellige when they had said farewell to one another at the docks. The wind was freezing that day, the weather unkind, not unlike the storm raging inside of her.

She tossed the book to the floor forgotten as her eyes met cornflower blue. Her eyelids were heavy, no doubt a side effect from the medication, but her pupils were focused, unwavering from Yennefer's own. They reflected confusion, fear, underneath the hazy fatigue. One of them had completely filled with blood, the vessels broken from blunt force. It made it difficult to look at, but she didn't dare avert her eyes.

"Triss," Yennefer breathed, relief flooding her voice, "are you in pain?"

There was a hard swallow, and she blinked slowly, as though it took her a moment to register Yennefer's question. Her mouth opened, before faltering, and Yennefer's eyes urged for her to continue.

"Y-Yes…a bit.. " she whispered hoarsely, and Yennefer went to the table where she kept various vials and ointments for Triss' recovery, "w-where am I?"

"Vengerberg," Yennefer replied softly as she tipped the vial to Triss' lips, the other woman still too weak to lift her head. Yennefer helped her, as painlessly as she could, raise the pillows so she could sit up a little further, "at my house."

It was then she saw it, and she saw it because she was watching for it. She wasn't sure why it mattered so much to her, but it was there. The undeniable uncertainty that flashed in Triss eyes, the submissive fear, the way she would no longer look her in the eye. Like a puppy waiting to be scolded. It was subtle, underneath the groggy state she was in, but unmistakably there.

As much as she hated it, Philippa was right.

Her eyes continued to trace lazily across the room, and Yennefer took her hands gently in her own. The contact had Triss' eyes magnetized to their grasp, her expression unreadable.

"Do you remember anything?" Yennefer asked tentatively, her thumbs caressing the palm of her hand.

Triss watched her, her eyes transfixed on their hands, "I remember…I remember seeing Kovir. Only…we didn't make it there. It was mercenaries…"

Yennefer watched as her eyes widened ever so slightly, as though something dawned on her, and Yennefer's heart began to pound.

"T-the King, does he know…does he know I'm here?" she struggled to ask, as though the words were mixed up in her head. She was beginning to question if this was the best time to be asking Triss these questions, as she didn't seem entirely present. She thought of how to answer her question; once she realized the extent of her injuries, she doubted Triss would ever be making it to Kovir, at least not in the foreseeable future.

"No, he doesn't," Yennefer said carefully, "what else do you remember?"

Triss' eyes looked faraway, "It was wet. I was wet…cold. It was a cell…" she trailed off then, her eyes running the expanse of the blanket that cover her. Slowly, they went to her left arm, to where her hand should be, hidden under the cover of the blankets. "I remember pain," her brows furrowed, "so hot I can…I can almost _feel_ it…"

" _Triss."_

Yennefer's voice was firm as was the grasp of her hand, causing Triss' attention to jolt to her direction, as though snapping out of a trance. Yennefer had to get her to focus on her, so she could explain this to her, calm her as best as she could. She needed to keep control of this situation.

"I have…I have to use t-the…bathroom," Triss mumbled, her face reddening slightly, though her expression was devoid of emotion. Without a thought Yennefer had grabbed the chamber pot and position it underneath Triss' hips. If the other woman was embarrassed, her face didn't betray her, though she wouldn't look Yennefer in the eye.

Truthfully, Yennefer would feel great shame should someone ever had to care for her like this. But she didn't want Triss to feel that way.

She made to walk away, to give the woman some semblance of privacy, when she heard the slight trickle hit the chamber pot and Triss' hand wrapped around Yennefer's wrist in a death grip as a sharp cry of pain escaped her lips.

Yennefer whirled around, confusion hitting her for only a hair of a second when she realized she had overlooked something so utterly important she was kicking herself all over again.

_Fuck._

_Her wounds._

She put her weight on the bed, sitting on the bed and placing her hands on her biceps, to prevent her from moving too much. She cursed herself for being so involved in healing Triss' arm, she had forgotten about the damage done to her nether regions. She couldn't even be entirely sure what they did to her down there, but it was clear that urination was causing her an immense amount of pain.

" _Fuck_!" Triss cursed, her jaw slack as she whimpered into the air, her hips jerking as her spurts came out erratically, wincing with pain with every stream.

Yennefer pressed her forehead to Triss', " _shh_ , it's alright, I'm here…"

She said it like a mantra, but when Triss' eyes met hers it was almost enough to break her resolve. They were begging, _pleading_ her for an explanation, to take the pain away. She was afraid, confused, and rightfully so. Her body was betraying her in ways she had not expected, and she had no idea the reason for it.

Her stream slowed to a trickle before stopping completely, leaving Triss gasping in shuddering breaths. Yennefer loosened the grip she had on her shoulders and began to rub the length of them, her fingers soothing the soft skin.

"It's over now…you're okay…"

But the tears were in Triss' eyes now, and they were escaping with ease, leaving shining tracks down her face. They kept coming from the depths of her eyes, replacing those already fallen.

"Y-Yen," she choked, her bottom lip trembling, "what h-happened to m-me?"

Yennefer felt a lump in her throat, unacceptable at this time. It was her burden to tell Triss of what transpired, a burden she insisted upon taking. She knew it would be ugly, she knew it would be agonizing, but Yennefer was no stranger to either of those things.

She had to tell her.

She removed the chamber pot from between her legs, taking a cloth and patting gently at the apex of her thighs. Triss winced and stared at her in disbelief, though she said nothing.

She backed away slightly so she could take Triss' hand again, grasping it tightly as though she were a frightened animal on the run. She allowed herself a few breaths of composure, but she could not take Triss' questioning eyes for long.

"Triss, Philippa and I rescued you from Deireadh three nights ago. When we found you, you had been beaten, brutally. I...I thought you were dead, at first. We brought you here, and we did everything we could for you. But…you need to know, there were things we could not fix…"

Triss just continued to stare at her blankly, though her eyes still poured tears of confused apprehension. Yennefer swallowed the stone that had formed in her throat, her violet eyes beginning to blur over themselves and it was almost enough to make her disgusted with her own self.

She readied herself the best she was able to break the woman's heart.

"Triss," she said, as gently as she could, "They…you were raped, in that prison."

She couldn't help but wince at her own words. She knew she was being painfully blunt, but truthfully, she didn't know how else to be. She watched helplessly as the color drained from Triss' face, her jaw set tight like she was going to be sick, and Yennefer braced herself for the second wave of tragic news she was set to bestow on the poor woman.

"Among other things," she resumed the circles she was rubbing into her palm previously, on her hand, the only one she had now, "broken ribs, a shattered knee and ankle…lesions…"

She sighed, the weight of her knowledge bearing down upon her. She forced herself to maintain Triss' gaze, despite the immense amount of pain that met her eyes. She swallowed hard, and continued.

"Your left hand is…is gone, Triss. It wasn't there with you, I...I don't know what they did. We did everything we could for you, but…"

For a moment, it was silent, but Triss' face betrayed emotions that had no need to be said aloud. Her jaw fell, and she almost looked as though she wanted to call Yennefer out on some despicable lie, but she said nothing. Her mouth opened and closed in disbelief, the tears in her eyes worsening as they scanned the blankets again, as though fearful of what lay underneath.

" _G-gone?"_ she whimpered, still staring at the mass under the blankets. Her eyes darted back to Yennefer, full of desperation for her to do something, to say it wasn't so, to pull the blankets up and reveal her sick joke as revenge on her for the betrayal.

She did none of those things.

Suddenly, her breaths cut through the air, akin to a silent scream. She began to hyperventilate and her hand began to squeeze Yennefer's own like a death grip.

"I don't want to see, I don't want to see it Yen, _please!"_ she dug her nails into her wrist, her eyes wide and afraid. Yennefer reached over, pulling the blankets further up to her chin, tucking them frantically in underneath her.

"You don't have to look, you don't have to," she soothed, her hand coming to cup her tear streaked face, "look at me instead, Triss, yeah?"

But Triss lip began to tremble, and she wrenched her hand from Yennefer's grip and brought it to her mouth instead. Squeezing her eyes shut she turned out of Yennefer's touch, breaking their gaze and retracting into herself. Hiding her tears, her shame.

 _"I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"_ came her muffled, choked sobs, and Yennefer faltered for a moment. Then she realized that she was apologizing for her tears. Yennefer was the type of person that normally believed one should keep their emotions in check, well guarded, even if she had more than the occasional outburst of anger in her lifetime. Tears, on the other hand, were something she herself rarely showed. While a fit of anger could be construed as powerful, intimidating, tears never could be seen as anything but weakness.

Or so she thought.

She knew when it came to some things, tears cannot be helped. She also knew that not everyone was as hardened as she was, and perhaps it wasn't weakness, just different. Triss was one of the most powerful sorceresses she knew, despite being an emotional person.

Maybe Yennefer was the weak one, always running from her own.

Yennefer had never before made this known to Triss, however. But Triss probably assumed she was like Philippa, and perhaps to an extent, she was right.

 _Philippa_.

Her domineering personality could very well have something to do with this as well. It was no secret that long ago Triss had studied under Philippa, the older sorceress acting as a sort of mentor. Yennefer knew very well what that position entailed, and was sure their relationship wasn't simply of innocent, sexual nature. Philippa tried to hammer it into Triss that to be a powerful sorceress, you had to have the emotional range of a boulder, something Triss could never live up to.

Without thinking, she lowered herself onto the bed until she was laying on her side next to the woman on her good side. She said nothing as she slipped her arm under Triss' neck, and pulled her closer to her.

The dam broke, and Triss began to sob openly into her chest, and with a start she realized that her heart was breaking under her tears, the pain more so than when she had found out about her and Geralt. She couldn't fathom why, but seeing Triss in such pain was enough for her to feel it in her own body and mind.

Maybe she wasn't as cold and unsympathetic as she once thought.

"It's alright to cry," she soothed as she ran her fingers through her hair, her nails raking her scalp, "I hear you, you're safe here."

Her words only made her sob harder.

* * *

The room was still dark when she awoke some time later. Her face heated when she discovered she had slept in Triss' bed the entirety of the night, internally scolding herself for doing something so foolish. The other woman was curled to her side, sound asleep, and Yennefer slowly extracted her arm from underneath her head, cupping her hand to the back of her neck to let her rest gently on the pillow. Her body ached from sleeping in such a stiff position, and she stretched deep as she stood and padded towards the window.

She glanced out at the still dark streets of Vengerberg, save for the odd glow of a lamppost along the cobbled roads. On the horizon the sky had taken on a deep purple hue, dawn only a few hours off. She swiped a finger at the fogged pane, her thoughts on the coming winter. Vengerberg was known to be hit fairly hard by the snow, and she had already seen a few flurries thus far. She could only hope it was mild.

With the chill on her mind she went to tend to the fire first, feeding the weak flames with new wood, and giving it a charge of magic to have it roaring once more. She glanced over to Triss, who had not yet heard her, presumably back in a deep slumber. She wanted her to drink more of the pain relieving liquid, lest she wake in considerable agony.

She retrieved the vial and went back to her side, cradling her head in her arm and ripping the liquid past her pale lips. She stirred, as she expected, but Yennefer was lowering her back to the pillow, running her hand softly through her hair, shushing her soothingly. Triss let out a hum in her throat as Yennefer raked her nails down her neck, the sound taking her aback slightly, but for some inexplicable reason she did it again.

This time, the woman's breath hitched and Yennefer drew back, the noise shocking her back to reality. She rubbed her temples, debating on laying down, she obviously wasn't thinking straight. The exhaustion of the past few days was beginning to pile up, it would explain her behavior being out of character.

Her struggle to find words, the nurturing urges she felt. This would all go away, Triss would heal one day, and Yennefer could return to being free from those who wronged her and continue to disrupt her life, and back to the existence she created for herself.

Philippa would be back soon, she was sure, and she would want Triss to go with her. And Yennefer was fairly certain that's what Triss wanted too.

She told herself, that it was what she wanted as well. What she needed.

For all she knew, Triss was screaming internally at Yennefer for keeping her here, or Philippa for not taking her with her. She didn't know what sort of relationship the two of them currently shared, but it was assumed that they had no contact between their defeat of the Wild Hunt and Triss' capture. Philippa was protective over her, that much was clear, but in her opinion it was for all the wrong reasons.

She sighed. Instead of retreating to the inviting blankets of the chaise lounge, she slowly removed the blanket of Triss' bandaged arm, watching her face carefully for any signs of movement. She knew Triss had no desire to see her wound, but whether she liked it or not, Yennefer had to continue healing it, cleansing it, and changing the bandages regularly.

She peeled off the ones that clung to her arm, slower than she usually would now that Triss was lucid. She didn't want her waking if she could avoid it. Inspecting the wound, she saw no signs of new distress, though the sight still made her stomach clench. It was crusted over and painful looking, red and angry. Some spots were still open. But the fact that it had closed so well in others in such a short amount of time was a good sign.

And thus began her ritual as her hands hovered over the extremity, and she let herself get lost in thought as her magic drained her slowly.

She missed Ciri.

She wished her daughter was here. She was kind and compassionate, and everyone was drawn to her outgoing personality. She would know what to do, caring came naturally to her. To Yennefer it was all mechanical, and for the first time in her life she was second guessing herself.

Ciri would be good at comforting Triss, something Yennefer was unsure of, especially given the history she was so desperately trying to put behind her. Philippa couldn't have been much better either, but Ciri would have helped her. She wondered where she was now, if she was safe, or if she had gotten herself into another complex scheme.

She wished she could visit her more often. Yennefer would never admit it aloud, not to anyone, that she felt loneliness as everyone else did. For the most part she enjoyed being by herself, but it had it's moments in the quiet when she realized that this was her life now, for however long that may be, and the silence was deafening.

Just as it was now.

She wasn't sure how long she stood there, her eyes transfixed on Triss' mutilated arm, the gold tendrils seeping forth as though they would never end, the rippling effect almost mesmerizing. She was only aware of her drifting off when she got the jarring sensation of falling forward. She jolted upright to find Triss watching her, her expression concerned.

Yennefer glanced to her still exposed arm, the tendrils surging with her new wakefulness.

"Shit," she muttered, glancing between Triss and her mangled arm that lay out in the open under Yennefer's skilled hands, "I'm sorry, Triss," she said with a heavy sigh, "I have to heal you, morning and night, to rid you arm of infection and close the wound. I can't miss it."

But Triss wasn't even looking at her arm. Her blue eyes were fixed on Yennefer, as though studying her.

"How long have you been there?" she asked softly.

Yennefer looked around, trying to get a view of outside to no avail, "I'm not sure, a few hours?"

Triss' eyes flittered to her arm for a moment, before raking back up to Yennefer's own, "stop."

The request was soft, but Yennefer did as she asked. She tried to remain nonchalant, as to not betray how fatigued she truly felt, but the sweat on her brow betrayed her nonetheless.

"You're exhausted," Triss insisted, her eyes shining with what looked like guilt, "you need to rest."

Yennefer made to lay out all the fresh bandages as she usually did, along with the cleansing solution. "I'm fine…how are you feeling? How is the pain?"

"It's alright," she whispered, her eyes beginning to grow misty as Yennefer poured the cool liquid onto her arm. She watched how Yennefer took care not to pour too much, but to get every area of the wound. "Thank you, Yen. I know my thanks could never, _ever_ be enough, but-"

She held up her hand, gently. "It's enough. You don't need to thank me." She patted the edges of the wound dry, when a thought struck her.

"Triss," she said, causing the woman to turn her head curiously, "when we brought you here, Philippa wanted to take you with her. Fought me on it actually, but I…I insisted that you stayed with me."

She waited for Triss to say something but she was met with silence, only the same curious look remained.

"Would you rather I didn't?"

She wasn't sure if Triss would even be honest with her, and there was no way to tell if she was or not. She might very well wish that she had awoken at Philippa's but she would never say, not after the days Yennefer spent nursing her back to health.

Triss was silent for a moment, as though choosing her words carefully. "No, "she settled on, "Philippa is…harsh."

Yennefer couldn't help the small smile on her lips as she gently raised Triss' forearm, wrapping the bandage expertly around. "And I'm not?"

Triss' gaze was unwavering from her, "not right now."

And she said it with such raw honesty, Yennefer looked down to where she was tenderly wrapping her arm, her stomach suddenly in knots at what she took as a compliment. It was as though her gaze was piercing right through her, when Triss suddenly looked away when Yennefer had finished.

She didn't miss the tears in her eyes.

"Thank you…" she mumbled weakly. "You don't have to stay with me."

Yennefer felt her heart pinch as Triss' statement left her mouth. She fastened the bandage so it wouldn't unravel, and she let her hand linger at the crook of her elbow.

"Are you uncomfortable, here with me?" she asked quietly.

She watched Triss' throat bob, her head still turned away from her. She saw how her jaw tightened when she asked, giving her all the confirmation she needed for something she already assumed. She couldn't very well blame the woman, Yennefer was widely known for being vindictive, petty, and not above having a thirst for revenge. Triss probably thought Yennefer trapped her here so she could make her life miserable.

"You don't have to feel guilt every time you look at me," she began softly, her fingers caressing her bicep, like trying to coax a frightened animal. "I'm not here to talk about the past, nor how I feel about it. I just want to focus on your recovery and all of that…it's over."

_Is it?_

Triss turned to her, her brows knitting together, "If Philippa was willing to take me, why not let her?"

Yennefer was slightly taken aback by the question, but she recovered with ease. She had long enough to ask herself the same thing after all.

"I didn't exactly trust her motives," she said carefully, eyeing the other woman's reaction.

She tried to read Triss' eyes, desperately searching her blue orbs for any hint of contempt or disbelief. But she was met with something else, perhaps fear. Her discomfort around Yennefer ran deeper than she thought, and yet she still insists she wouldn't rather be with Philippa.

So what did Triss want? She wasn't sure. She could only hope she would come to trust her. Even if Yennefer didn't trust Triss yet either.

"And what of your motives?" Triss asked after a while, as though she didn't want to ask at all. "Why do this for me?"

Yennefer let out a sigh, doing nothing to alleviate the heavy weight in her chest. What Triss was asking was something Yennefer had asked herself, before she came to the realization she knew all along. It was why it hurt so much when Triss had betrayed her. It was why she made a pitiful attempt to salvage it in Novigrad after the battle at Kaer Morhen. It was why she eventually fled back to Vengerberg when the ache proved to be too much to bare. Her sanity threatened, she tried to forget.

"Because…because I still care for you, Triss."

She almost regretted saying anything at all, what with the way Triss' lip trembled and her eyes filled with tears once again.

"Despite everything?" she asked, her voice small.

But Yennefer felt almost, free.

"Yes."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I'll just update on Wednesdays now lol. This ones gonna hurt. Enjoy!

Triss' eyelids had begun to grow heavy, so Yennefer informed her she would return once she bathed. She figured Triss would be alright so long as she was sleeping. She never expressed aloud that she wished for Yennefer's presence, but she didn't have to. Yennefer knew Triss, and knew that underneath what may look like coping well, she was in utter ruins.

Triss, being the emotional woman she was, also came equipped with pretty bad self esteem. There was no denying that physically, Triss had begun to take quite a beating as a sorceress. First, the twisted flesh of her chest, now she was missing a hand. It didn't escape her that since Triss woke up, her eyes had been filled with tears and doubt, shame being the worst of all.

But she should have been able to take a bath.

It was only a bath.

She hadn't been gone that long, had she?

She had been gone long enough. Long enough for the damage to be done. For the blood to soak through the sheets.

_"Fuck!"_ she shrieked, suddenly filled with a blinding, hot rage. Triss Merigold, the little snake, waiting until she had her trust to leave the room. After everything Yennefer had done for her, after the exhausting hours spent healing her to keep her from the brink of death. Yennefer didn't sleep, she didn't eat, she did nothing for herself and this is how Triss thanked her.

She ripped a towel from the table, frantically wrapping it around Triss' good arm, around the wrist that bled so profusely. The woman was white, frighteningly so, and Yennefer pressed a bloodied hand to her cheek, roughly.

"Triss? _Wake up!"_

Triss mumbled something incoherent, trying to tug her arm away weakly. Yennefer held it with the towel in an iron grip, baring her teeth at the barely conscious woman.

"I don't fucking think so. Not after everything I've done. You're not going anywhere," she seethed as she looked around desperately for what Triss might have used to do such a thing. There, on the bedside table, a single shard of bloodied glass, presumably from the water glass that was no longer there.

She pulled Triss' pillow to the side, to find what she had already expected. More shards of glass, shattered under the pillow, so Yennefer wouldn't hear it.

White hot tears began to run down her face, at Triss' magnitude of distrust that she wouldn't just _talk_ to her about it, her anger she felt over wasting her time on a life that wasn't wanted. And she hated how her anger wasn't justified, not even close, for she saw herself in Triss in that moment. She too, tried to kill herself, what seemed like a lifetime ago back in Aretuza. Before she had discovered her true power, she was a different person then. But she knew how it felt, when the weight of the world was crushing you from all corners, when life seemed like an unbearable option. She had even kept her scars from that day, as a reminder of what she came from.

But what was worst of all was the fear that gripped her chest and iced her veins upon seeing the blood. She almost lost Triss once, she couldn't have it happening a second time. It was as though she was stuck in a nightmare.

Triss now only had one wrist to cut, but she certainly had made the most of it. She chanced a glance at the wound and was immediately met with rivulets of blood, pouring from nearly an inch wide of exposed skin.

"Damnit Triss!" she hissed through her teeth as she began to heal her. She clamped her hands over the wound, doing her best to stop the blood flow while her magic healed some of the skin over. She would have to stitch it, magic would take far too long to properly close a wound of this size. She just needed it a little smaller, so Triss wouldn't bleed out.

She tied the towel off while she ran to get a sewing kit. She returned hastily, removing the reddened towel and began to work. Thankfully, she was quite adept at stitching, and had her wrist closed in no time. She grabbed the roll of bandages used for Triss' arm, and as she had done for that one, she bandaged her wrist gently, covering up the long gash held together with expertly placed thread.

Only then did she realize she had been hyperventilating, perhaps the entire time. Spots began to dot her vision, and she collapsed in the chair at the bedside. She leaned forward as she desperately tried to calm her breathing, her breaths cutting the air in sharp, frightened gasps as the adrenaline wore off and her body began to ache with what transpired.

She began to sob, pressing her bloodied hands to her face as she tried to quell her tears to no avail. She allowed her body to be overcome, too exhausted to care anymore if she was crying freely or not. It was the burden of the long days, the uncertainty, and the never ending emotional turmoil that came with it. It was becoming too much, even for Yennefer.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there, staring at her stained hands and feeling sorry for herself. It was clear, Triss could not be trusted alone any longer. She sighed as she stood, lifting Triss with her magic and taking her to her own chambers.

Once she had Triss settled in her bed, she went back to the guest room to tidy the glass and retrieve the bandages. The sheets were beyond ruined, and Yennefer didn't want to look at them any longer anyway, opting to throw them away instead.

Once again, Triss was spattered in blood. This time, she would have her in the tub once she woke. There was no point in trying to go at it with a cloth again, the woman was filthy. She would just have to support her the best she was able, and hope she could change her own sheets for her as she bathed, as they too now had spots of blood on them.

She felt as though she had seen enough blood for a lifetime at this point.

Her breath shuddered as she recalled the traumatic events that just unfolded. And she worried for what was to come in the future. In truth, she still felt incredibly angry at the whole situation, but she knew she couldn't act on those feelings when Triss regained consciousness. If she did, it would only cause her to retract further from her, likely resulting in this happening again.

But it wasn't fair, the world making her this way. She knew she took this on by choice, but it was beginning to strain on her psyche. Now she was living in constant dread that she would turn around and Triss will have driven a stake through her neck. If Triss was determined enough in her endeavor to end her life, she could surely make it happen.

Yennefer would just have to stay with her. Constantly, exhaustingly. Triss will probably get angry at some point, and Yennefer already knew she herself would. But this was the way things had to be, she couldn't have Triss' blood on her hands.

She knew it wouldn't be easy, but she liked to think there was still hope for her yet.

She deftly unclasped her gambeson, her outfit now ruined with the red liquid, as with seemingly everything else. It was everywhere, the copper stench hung in the air and clung to her skin. It was embedded deep under her nails, no matter how she washed it wouldn't come clean, a glaring reminder of all her failures.

It was on her hands now, dried and insistent on her pale skin. Her face, she could feel it breaking atop her skin with every movement. What she felt like was the hundredth time since arriving back to Vengerberg, she shed her copper tainted clothes sadly, and went for the tub again.

She watched as the water turned the familiar rust color as it drew the stains from her body, and she began to scrub. As she did so she took the opportunity to examine her chambers.

Everything was a potential hazard now.

She noted just how much glass she actually had in here, the throb in her head worsening with every new discovery. The colorful vase from Toussaint just on the end table, dozens of vials on the dresser. Nothing would be enough. She would strangle herself with the bedsheets should she desire to.

She could only do what she could for the time being; no glass, none of her ceramics.

It would never be enough.

She rinsed the soap from her hair and exited on wobbly legs. Diminishing the water in the tub, she tied off a robe and began the grueling task of finding places for all the newly hazardous items in her room. It upset her, that she had to do this. In her own chambers, no less.

It probably didn't take long, but it felt as though hours had gone by. When she felt the room was as safe as she could make it, she chanced a trip to the living area. Triss would still need water, but she would have to drink it out of a silver goblet instead.

The water nearly ran over when she stopped dead in her tracks in the doorway.

Triss was staring at her. Her face held no misery, no distress. Just indisputable and purpose driven _anger_.

Her blue eyes, normally soft and full of life, now only seemed ice cold and hardened. Her jaw was clenched tight, so tight she could practically see the vein in her temple from where she stood, and it was clear that Triss was furious.

Furious with _her._

And that was where her own temper began to flare, as though Triss' glare poked at her gut with a hot iron, making her blood boil so fierce her hands began to numb. This was where she lost control. She was no stranger to this feeling, just as recently as Kaer Morhen she had Geralt teleported to the river when she had lost her temper on him.

Now she was filled with the same desire for the woman who had the audacity to glare at her the way she was. After everything she had put Yennefer through thus far, she must be looking for a fight to disrespect her in such a way. Perhaps not teleport the woman out of the building per say, but she wouldn't mind cracking her hand across her face, slapping that fucking look right off.

_No._

Her breath caught hard in her throat and she focused her glare on the floor instead. She bit her lip until she tasted blood, trying to reign in that horrible part of her that threatened to let loose on the woman. She told herself Triss was hurting. That this wasn't her.

And it wasn't. If she fought back with her, it would get them nowhere and would indefinitely do more damage to her already fragile state. She was expecting this too, waiting for Yennefer to lash out at her just as her old self would have done. Perhaps it was the entire reason for trying to get a reaction out of her just now, looking at her with such contempt.

Maybe that's just how messed up she was now. All she knew was pain at this moment, this twisted occurrence attacking her in ways she wasn't equipped to defend herself from. She didn't want to heal right now, she wanted to be upset, to be angry.

She knew Triss needed kindness in this moment. She couldn't be like Philippa, and punish her for her feelings. The only option was to continue the way she was before, with a caring hand. She tried not to think of it as backing down, but taking the most beneficial solution.

She swallowed the anger that threatened to burst past her lips, the hurls of fury and insults she had at the forefront of her mind slowly receding back into the dark recesses of it. She forced her gaze back to the red head, her features softened, though Triss' remained unchanged.

She glanced at the tub, and with a wave of her hand it was filled with steaming water again. Moving to the ledge, she poured various sweet smelling oils into the pool, all the while feeling Triss' gaze burning holes through the back of her.

She turned back towards her, her face neutral as her eyes bored into Triss' own. Purposefully, she walked to the side of the bed, and the other woman's eyes followed her, her jaw tightening further if it was even possible.

She placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, and Triss said nothing. Her other hand went to the edge of the blankets that currently covered the woman.

"I'm going to put you in the bath," she said softly.

As expected, Triss eyes set in determination, but when she spoke, her voice came out small and broken.

_"No."_

But Yennefer didn't listen to her protests, and Triss in her weakened state was in no condition to fight her on it.

"I'm going to help you, and you'll feel better afterwards. I'll be right there." Her words were gentle as she removed the blanket covering her, and she didn't miss how Triss broke out in a full blush upon being exposed. Her arms scrambled to cover her chest, but Yennefer was already picking her up in her arms.

She heard the small gasp escape the woman, presumably in pain. Her ribs were still healing after all. But when she looked down she was met with blue orbs, wide and free of the anger they once held. Instead they were filled with a curiosity, mixed with embarrassment. She hadn't realized their faces were so close.

"It's alright," she murmured softly, and Triss swallowed hard and averted her gaze as Yennefer carried her to the tub in the center of the room. She used magic to aid her in lowering her in the water; she wasn't sure how much weight her busted knee could bear, but she wouldn't risk her falling.

She hissed as her skin met the warm bath, likely due to the many abrasions that still riddled her body. Yennefer was there behind her, supporting her under the arms as she eased her into it. When she was sat down, Yennefer rested the elbows she was supporting on the edge of the tub as to not wet her bandages.

"Are you alright? Is there pain?" she asked as she rested her hands on the woman's shoulders.

Triss grimaced as she finally settled into place, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment, "No…just a little dizzy…"

Yennefer grabbed the wash cloth she had at her side, dipping it into the water and soaking it. When she brought it to the air, she cooled the water soaked in the fabric with her magic. She folded the cloth and pressed it lightly to her forehead.

Triss whimpered softly, her eyes sliding shut as a gasp pushed past her parted lips into the tense air. Yennefer gently pressed her back, until she had her hair thoroughly wet. She moved the cloth around her heated spots, dabbing each cheek and down her neck. Triss made a small sound again, a sound of comfort.

She set aside the cloth so she could soap her hands to work on the woman's hair. It was long overdue, a proper bathe like this. The one she gave her using a simple rag barely got through the grime on her, and least now she would finally be rid of the stench of Deireadh Prison.

She tangled her fingers in the red tresses; her hair was beautiful, as much as Yennefer loved black she was always a little jealous of Triss' hair, the way it flowed down her back like cascading fire. She found herself even enjoying running her fingers through it, even after everything it was as soft as it always looked.

Lost in the action, she failed to notice how tense Triss became once again. She only realized when she tipped her head in the water again, and saw that Triss wouldn't meet her eyes, her face was set in a stony grimace.

Lathering more soap in her fingers, she pushed the finished hair aside, and began to massage the lather into her shoulders. They were locked as though she had a prod in her spine, the muscles hard and tight under the skin. She could feel every knot under her touch, and her hands slowed as they felt something else.

Triss was trembling in her hands.

And suddenly she gasped sharply, the cry turning into hyperventilation as she jerked forward from Yennefer's hands. She let her go, watching as the woman began to fall apart into near hysterics, her breaths cutting and painful.

She placed her hand gently in between her shoulder blades, what was to be a sign of comfort only made Triss wince.

_"No!_ " Triss cried, her voice thick with tears though Yennefer could not see her face. "S-Stop, just _stop!_ Why are you d-doing this for m-me? You're supposed to _h-hate me!"_

She began to rub small circles on the woman's back as she sobbed freely, feeling unworthy of her care. "Do you want me to hate you?"

Triss tried to quell her wracking sobs, "N-no…maybe-I don't know! I _know_ that I don't deserve th-this. I've done _horrible_ things to y-you…and the things I'm still p-putting you through…you're being so _nice_ to me, Yenna, and I don't deserve y-your kindness…"

She pulled Triss closer to her, despite her body protesting weakly against her, and resumed washing her back. She was light over her bruises, and she readied the wash cloth to scrub at her arms. Triss continued to weep quietly as she did so, her shoulders shaking, but Yennefer pressed on.

"I told you already, I'm past everything that happened between us."

"Y-you're not," Triss whispered, "I know it's on your mind as much as it is mine."

Yennefer sighed, sorrow weighing heavily down upon her, "I'm sorry, Triss, but I won't punish you for what you've done. Maybe the best thing we can do now is just…lay it all in the open. We never got past this because we never _talked_ about it, we never communicated properly. I'll admit, a lot of that is my fault. Triss," she squeezed her shoulders gently, her nails raking the soft skin, "I won't judge you, just…be _honest_ with me, about how you feel." She swallowed thickly, her own bitterness seeping up her throat. "And why you did this to me…"

Triss remained silently at war with herself, much to Yennefer's dismay. While she had tried to push the entire topic from her mind, it was apparent that she was handling the aftermath much better than Triss was. The guilt was clearly consuming the woman, and after her attempt to end her life, all Yennefer wanted was for her to let go of this, to minimize the stress she carried. It wasn't healthy, not only dealing with the loss of her limb and the violation of her body, but the past was aching her as well.

As much as she wanted to avoid the conversation at first, perhaps that was her way of protecting herself. But for Triss' benefit, maybe she couldn't run anymore. She had lifted Triss' bad arm, (or worse arm), and began to scrub the length of it, avoiding the injury at the end.

"When I heard of your passing," Triss started in a small voice, though it echoed in the silent chamber, "I felt like I had lost a part of myself…a part that was _everything_ to me."

Triss' voice was filled with a raw emotion she had not heard from her thus far. It saddened her, to think her near death had affected the woman so. Still, she found it odd, because while they were close, she didn't think Triss had felt so devastated. They had suffered loss together before, and it didn't seem to have such an impact on her as it did now.

"W-when Geralt came back to Kaer Morhen," Triss said carefully, "I bonded with him because…I don't know…he was the only connection I had left to you. A-and I guess in some twisted way, being with him made me feel close to you again."

Now Yennefer was thoroughly nonplussed, and admittedly a little disbelieving of her excuses. She fought the urge to retort, opting to hear her out instead, no matter how ridiculous it sounded. She had asked Triss to be honest with her, and after everything, she couldn't see why she would lie.

"Then it was discovered that you had survived…and I was just so _relieved_ , and worried, just so many emotions I could never explain. I missed you, dearly…"

"But you continued to pursue Geralt," she couldn't help but point out. Not as scathingly as she felt, but she wished she hadn't said anything at all when she saw the way Triss flinched.

"I…I did," she said quietly, her voice laced with shameful guilt. "I was afraid that…that he would go back to you. That you and him…"

Yennefer had to strain to hear her now. She was aware of her own heart pounding as she prepared to ask the question that she had always wondered.

"Did you love him?" she whispered, her stomach in knots as she waited for the woman's response.

"No," Triss answered truthfully.

"Then…then why do all of this? I don't understand…were you upset with me?" Yennefer couldn't understand, and she felt the familiar pang of annoyance. If she never loved Geralt, why did she do this to her? Why drag it out for so long, was it petty revenge? Out of spite?

"I…I don't know…it's _hard_ …"

"I think you do," Yennefer's voice was soft, but a mantra was repeating in her head, telling her to remain patient as the frustration battled with her composure. Triss was in a bad place, perhaps she had already pushed her too far having this conversation at all.

Triss remained silent, seemingly at a loss.

"You must understand, none of this makes any sense to me. If anything, you've left me more confused than I was before, so…I don't know how productive any of this was. Perhaps I shouldn't have asked," Yennefer said quietly, as she moved to wash Triss' other arm, the one caked in blood.

Triss sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat as she drew into herself, "I'm sorry…"

Yennefer gently caressed her arm as she scrubbed the dried blood from it, watching as the water turned the same rust color as hers did. She was having her own inner battle, desperately trying to decipher Triss' secretive motives to making her life hell for those years. Yennefer was no fool; she had been analyzing everything Triss had said since she had first started speaking, even in her fever dreams. But every outcome that seemed possible also didn't make any sense.

"You know," Yennefer said slowly, "I've lost some dear friends in my lifetime, and none of their deaths sparked any impulse to sleep with their widowed lovers. There's something you're not telling me, Triss, and I'm not going to force you to say it. But I think you know, that you and I will never be fully be at peace with this until you do."

Triss whimpered as her tears ran anew, her head lowered to her chest, " _I know…"_

She breathed hard through her nose as she looked to the bed. Wordlessly she got up and proceeded to pull new sheets from the drawers to swap with the stained ones on the bed. Triss didn't look at her once.

When she returned to the tub, she took the wash cloth and plunged it into the water. She gently began to wipe down the woman's legs under the surface, starting at her thighs. Triss winced and her face turned as red as her hair, and it didn't fail to capture Yennefer's attention.

"I'm sorry if this is intrusive," she said softly, "but you don't have to feel embarrassed Triss. Youre-"

_Perfect_.

"-beautiful, as you always were." She wasn't sure where that came from, especially given the heated discussion they just had, but she wanted the frightened look off of Triss' face. It was the thought in her mind that unnerved her.

Triss looked away then, chewing her lip in her teeth. She looked very much in disagreement in Yennefer's statement, but she remained quiet and allowed her to continue.

"Moving forward," Yennefer said hesitantly, "you have to let go of this guilt you carry, Triss. If it helps, Geralt holds no love for me anymore. We…we met in Skellige, to find another djinn."

Triss' gaze snapped to her then, her eyes widening slightly as she listened. Apparently, she had never heard this part of the story. She supposed she wouldn't have, neither she nor Geralt were much for exposing their private lives.

"We _did_ find one," she continued, "and we asked for it to break the bond created by the first, all those years ago, in return for it's release. When all was said and done, Geralt didn't love me anymore."

She was surprised to find how saddened she was all over again when she said the words out loud. She had never spoken about this with anyone before, opting to deal with it internally as she usually did.

Triss' arm flinched, as though debating on reaching for her before remembering that she could not in her condition. That, or because she thought better of it, and she felt a strange pang of disappointment when it didn't happen.

"I'm sorry, Yenna," she said honestly, her eyes shining with emotion.

She shook her head, "I have moved on from it. The point is, this would have happened regardless of your actions. It only hurt that…that it was _you_ , who did this to me."

She didn't miss how Triss' face crumpled into guilt again, so she held up a hand.

" _But_ , that doesn't mean that I haven't had time to heal from that too. I'm sure you have your reasons, and I hope one day you'll feel comfortable sharing them with me. But for now, I need you here."

She felt a lump form in her throat and she blinked the tears away angrily that had begun to form.

"I can't lose you, Triss," she continued shakily, "please, don't put me through this again. I know you're hurting, and I know how badly you wish for it to end."

Tears began to fall down Triss' freckled cheeks, her lip trembling. Yennefer felt her own tears track her face, not bothering to wipe them away this time.

"You know of my scars," she whispered, "I know how you're feeling because I was _there_. But I need you to try for me, day by day, here with me. You won't be alone, just…just _talk_ to me when you feel this way. I understand what it's like to want to end it all."

Triss let out a sob, her gaze tearing from Yennefer's, "I feel like this _all_ the time," she whimpered.

"Stay here with me," Yennefer found herself pleading, "stay here, and I will do everything I can to help you get better. I will be with you every step of the way until there comes a day that you want to be here again. Even if it takes weeks, even if it takes months."

_Even if it takes years._

"I just need you to try," she finished, her voice a whisper.

Triss' eyes slid shut as fresh tears fell, a pained expression on her face. Yennefer fought the urge to wipe her tears. She looked as though she were weighing some terrible option, the burden of her answer crushing her.

"I'll…I'll try," she mumbled, broken.

Yennefer managed a teary half smile, before she wrung out the washcloth and stood. She would have to towel her off on the bed, and decided to lay one down. She returned to her position behind the woman, using her magic she gently lifted her into her arms. Triss shivered in the cold air, and Yennefer cradled her closer, a strange tenderness filling her chest.

She lay her down on the towel, watching for any signs of pain in the other woman's features. She Toweled her off with a caring hand, Triss refusing to meet her eyes all the while, still uncomfortable with the current situation. Yennefer couldn't blame her, as she too would hate to he unable to wash herself or use the bathroom without aid.

She hoped Triss understood that Yennefer wanted to do this for her.

"I'll get you some clothes," she offered, "you'll just need to take care as I help you put them on."

Triss nodded eagerly, and Yennefer almost felt guilty for not clothing her sooner. But she was filthy, after all, and it was much easier to heal the smaller wounds that peppered her body without having to undress her each time.

She grabbed some small clothes from her wardrobe and began to help Triss with the shirt. The woman gasped sharply when she lifted her arms, the pain of her ribs stretching with movement. She gently tugged it down, and then slipped the shorts up her legs. Another wince as her knee bent to slip into the leg, and then it was done, as painlessly as she could have made it.

"Thank you," Triss said breathlessly as Yennefer settled her into the pillows.

She smiled, "do you think you can try and eat something for me?" she asked gently.

"I can try…" she agreed.

Yennefer couldn't help but give a final sweep of the room, checking for anything that could be construed as a weapon. Triss saw this, and her gaze softened.

"I'll be here," she said, placing her hand over Yennefer's. Her words somewhat soothed her, even if she couldn't trust her completely.

She would just have to be quick, but she was delighted that Triss agreed to try.


	6. Chapter 6

She rummaged around her pantry, looking for something that would go down easily. She decided on some fruit, it would help to hydrate her and give her energy. She sliced it up quickly and put it in a silver bowl, and found herself walking rather quickly back down the hall. She wanted to believe Triss, she really did, but she wasn't ready yet. The sting of the afternoon was still fresh.

She returned, trying to ignore the pleasant relief that warmed her chest upon seeing Triss still in one piece, and not accompanied by copious amounts of blood. She gave her a small smile as she set the bowl on the bed by her good arm. She wasn't opposed to feeding the woman herself, but she figured that might be far too undignified for her. Triss needed some semblance of independence, even if her body wouldn't allow it, Yennefer would.

Triss gave a grateful smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, and she reached for the bowl, slowly. She grimaced as her ribs shifted, but she picked up the fruit nonetheless, pushing a small grape past her lips.

"I can help you, you know?" she offered, as she hesitated with a handful of fresh bandages.

Triss shook her head. "No," she said quickly, "that's…that's far too demeaning…"

Yennefer continued to set up the ointments, along with new bandages for her arm, "I understand, but it's not meant to be that way. I've actually come to find, I enjoy taking care of you."

Her own face heated when she realized what she had said, but it was too late now. It was a strange thing to say, after all, and she wasn't sure what prompted her to do so.

She hasn't been herself lately.

"Why?" Triss asked curiously, picking at the fruit. She wouldn't meet Yennefer's eyes.

"I don't know," she sighed. She began to unwrap her arm, night was falling soon, she might as well get started. "Perhaps it's partly for selfish reasons-it makes me feel…good? To know you're taken care of. But also, it's comforting knowing where you are and that your safe here."

_Is she? You nearly lost her again._

All she could do was suppress the guilt that forced it's way into her thoughts.

She suddenly felt awkward for her speech. Yennefer didn't talk about feelings, ever. Feelings weren't worth her time, usually, but now there was so many of them it was all-consuming.

She thought she heard Triss gasp, but she focused her attention on the bandages, pretending to be far too busy to take her own words into consideration, treating it as though it were a passing comment.

She was pleased with the condition of her wound today, though she fought the urge to smile to herself. Triss probably wouldn't appreciate Yennefer's enthusiasm over her tragedy, but the wound was now entirely closed over, the skin hard and scabbed and blackened, but healing. The hot redness of infection that surrounded it had dissipated, and the burns no longer oozed. She poured on the cleansing solution and began to use her magic. Triss ate in silence until she was finished, and rested her good hand across her stomach as she watched Yennefer work.

"You don't have to do this," she said meekly.

Yennefer almost snorted, "you're the most talented healer I know. I think you know as well as I do that I have to do this."

Triss said nothing, though her face betrayed everything. Her brows furrowed as she watched, but she worried her lip, it didn't escape Yennefer how her eyes still filled with emotion.

"What changed you?" she asked softly.

Yennefer raised an eyebrow, "what do you mean?"

She gestured generally to Yennefer, where she stood with her hands hovered over Triss' arm. "You're…different. Caring, patient… _forgiving_. It's not what I expected, I'm just wondering what happened?"

The corners of her mouth upturned into a grin, "I know I was vindictive most of my life. Cold, calculating, and I thought my own feelings were beneath me. But my life was been quiet now for some time now, and I suppose I've had a lot of time to revaluate the way I see the world around me. Ciri helped me a lot with that-to be more empathetic. She is fiery, like myself, but she's sweet."

She smiled sadly at the fond memory of the blonde woman, the reminiscing was bittersweet at best.

"I detested weakness, and that's why I avoided my own emotions. But I came to find my behavior was a weakness in itself, and that allowing yourself to feel things doesn't make you pathetic, but liberated. I guess it sounds rather strange…"

Triss shook her head, "it doesn't. It's nice…but you've always had a good heart."

Her smile grew, "thank you. I'm trying to reflect that through my actions, now."

They fell into a comfortable silence for a while. Through the corner of her eye she would watch for Triss, trying to gauge what the other woman was thinking. She was only met with the face of a terribly broken girl, a hollow shell of her former self. The pain was etched in her features, a woman changed, and she wondered if the glowing life would ever return to her cerulean eyes.

"You helped, too." Yennefer whispered. Triss' eyes raked upwards to meet hers intently.

"Having you here made me realize how much your friendship meant to me. And how nothing is worth losing that. Losing _you_."

Her heart bloomed as she earned a small, watery smile from the redhead. Maybe this was what progress looked like; it started with the smallest gestures, getting her to smile or even laugh. This was the first time she had done so since her harrowing ordeal, and Yennefer would take it as a meaningful victory, no matter how small, even if it was gone again in an instant.

She finished the healing of her arm and wrapped it with new bandages. A thought came to her and she lifted the blanket to expose Triss' bad knee. It was swollen, marred with an ugly blackened bruise. She placed her hands on the hot skin, and began to flow her magic through.

"I imagine you'll want to be walking soon," she said, "it should only take a few days."

But Triss said nothing. Her face remained impassive, almost bored, and it struck Yennefer that in this moment Triss did not care if she would walk again. She tried to tell herself that it will change, in due time, her drive will come back, along with her laughter and her passion for life.

She traced her fingers gently over the bruise, her magic flooding out of the tips, and she felt Triss relax slightly under her touch. By now, the pain was likely coming back, and soon it would be time to give her some more medicine.

She remained there for maybe an hour, neither of them speaking further. It was tense, to say the least, at least on Yennefer's part. Triss obviously didn't feel like talking, and that was alright, but Yennefer couldn't help but begin to worry for her again. She would have these moments, where she would almost seem like she was still there, before the faraway stare or the tears would come again.

She was suffering.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked gently, "tell me what you're feeling."

It was in no way a command, more of a gentle request, just to let Triss know she was here. She watched the woman swallow, hard, her mouth opening as if to speak.

Nothing came out.

Instead her eyes welled up and she looked away, as though not looking at Yennefer would make the words come easier. She didn't like seeing Triss suffer such inner turmoil, but she couldn't deny her curiosity.

"Disgust," she whispered after a moment, her jaw flexing. "Disgust for how I look…for what happened to my body…God knows how _many_ of them…" she trails off, the reality too painful for her to bear. She cleared her throat of the emotion inside, "I'll be known as the mutilated sorceress, I'll be pitied in the streets. No one will want me, no one wants someone who has been violated like I have, with a body barely holding t-together-" she was cut off by a sharp gasp at the end, the sobs threatening to burst through her chest.

Yennefer stopped her magic; it had been dwindling anyway, after these long hours. Her hand ran up Triss thigh, caressing the soft skin above her knee. She didn't miss the goosebumps that formed there, the way Triss flinched under the gentle touch, as though never felt before.

"Anyone that denies your beauty because of your scars, never deserved to bask in the light of it anyway." Yennefer was never one for sweet words, and she surprised herself. She felt her own face grow hot at the incredibly romantic line, feeling as though she might have overdone it. "You are desirable, Triss-" _Gods, STOP_ "-and someone out there will love you like you deserve to be."

Triss hand went to her face, wiping her tears. Her lip still trembled, and she looked like she didn't believe Yennefer, but she didn't argue her. Instead she looked at her curiously, as though she didn't understand what she meant. Yennefer realized she probably felt awkward after her speech, and she couldn't rightfully blame her. She wasn't sure where that came from, either.

"Th-thank you, Yenna," she said tearfully, "that's…kind of you to say."

Yennefer smiled tightly and rose from the bed, stretching and relishing how her back popped as she did so. She glanced around; she had no lounge in here, she realized, only a large armchair by the fire. Sighing, she made to shed her clothes, heading in the direction of the furniture. It would have to do, for now.

She felt Triss watching her; it was of no matter to her, she was rather comfortable with her own nudity. If Triss wasn't, she could easily look away, this was Yennefer's room after all. But she wasn't looking away, and she couldn't help but wonder why.

She turned as she pulled the slip over her head, now clad in nothing but a night gown. She raised a questioning eyebrow to Triss, who blushed and looked away as though caught.

"You…you don't have to sleep there," she said in a small voice, "this is your bed, after all…there's enough room?"

Yennefer stopped, glancing between the bed and the arm chair. She didn't see the harm in it, and she couldn't deny how she missed sleeping in a bed. As long as she was careful that she didn't hurt the woman, surely the two of them could sleep comfortably there.

And if she didn't know any better, Triss _wanted_ her there.

So she extinguished the fire, bathing the room in nothing but darkness with a single stream of pale moonlight flooding through the window. Her eyes adjusted, and she could see Triss watching as she padded to the bed.

She assisted Triss in moving over slightly so she could slip in next to her. It was enticingly warm, under the blankets with her, and she tugged them up to cover the both of them. Triss had rolled onto her left side, and Yennefer opted to stare at the ceiling a moment.

"Are you comfortable?" she asked.

"Yes," was the soft reply.

"Good."

She let her eyes fall shut, exhaustion blanketing her entire body, though her mind remained alert. She desired sleep, but her brain would not hear of it, and she was stuck in a battle with herself. She couldn't help but replay the events of that day, and the scenarios to come in the uncertain future. She wished she could crawl inside Triss' head, so she didn't feel so in the dark about everything. She wasn't sure of how much help she could be to the woman if she never opened up to her.

Her body nearly winning, she had been on the edge of unconsciousness when she felt a subtle movement reverberate through the bed. Her heart skipped, overcome with the paranoia that Triss may be in trouble, may be trying to repeat her previous attempts.

She opened her eyes and chanced a glance at the woman.

Her shoulders were trembling, just slightly, you had to watch or you would miss it. If she had fallen asleep she was sure the movement would have went unnoticed. Soft, jerking motions as Triss buried her sobs as deep as she could, weeping silently to herself, alone in the dark of the night.

She takes a deep breath, her body moving on it's own accord. She rolled over with her, until she was just behind her, and her hand was already reaching tentatively. She met skin, the soft freckled skin of her exposed shoulder poking out from the loose fitting shirt.

Triss freezes, breathing a gentle gasp.

Yennefer chews her lip before digging her nails into her gently, tugging her, encouraging her to roll over.

"Come here," she whispers to her ear, mere inches away.

Triss complies, immediately, letting Yennefer's hands guide her until she is facing her. She can see her tears glistening in the pale light, the way her eyes pleaded with Yennefer.

_Hold her._

She slipped her arm under Triss' neck, the other coming over her top of her. She pulled her close until she was in her chest, her chin resting atop sweet smelling red hair. It was here when Triss' wept openly, one arm buried to her chest while the other, her damaged one, wrapped feebly around Yennefer's waist, tugging slightly as though to pull them impossibly closer.

Yennefer enclosed her in an embrace, one of safety, completely encapsulating her trembling form in her arms. She buried a hand in her hair, her nails raking gently into her scalp, the action meant to be soothing.

Her other hand had a mind of it's own. She didn't even think about it as her hand slipped up the back of Triss' shirt.

The woman shuddered in her arms as she met the warm skin there, and she started to travel lazy patterns into her flesh, and Triss hummed into her chest.

Her eyes flew open at the sound, the noise jarring her out of her fatigue daze, and she realized with a start the position they were in.

Literally tangled within one another, one could easily say this was more akin to a lovers embrace. At least it certainly felt that way to Yennefer. Her hand up her shirt, scratching into her skin, the other in her hair, the motions were sensual.

She felt as though she were crossing a very fine, very invisible line, laying with her in this way. But she knew it was innocent, it was to bring Triss comfort, it was because it was so clear that Triss needed this.

But was it? Because the strange clench in her abdomen was telling her otherwise. Telling her that she enjoyed the way Triss hummed into her skin, enjoyed the way she shivered under her touch.

How nice it felt, to have a warm body next to her again.

 _No_.

She pushed the strange feelings down, forced the knot in her stomach to be undone. She was simply comforting a friend, there was no underlying intentions to these actions. There was none of the tension Yennefer was making up in her head. It was an act of kindness.

That's what she told herself as Triss' sobs died down and gave way to soft breathing, indicating that she had fallen into slumber.

She didn't remove her hands.

Xxxxxxxxx

Warmth.

It was everywhere, surrounding her, engulfing her senses until she didn't know where her body started and the source began. It wasn't unwelcome by any means, on the contrary it was quite inviting. She tried to clung closer to it, as though it would never be enough, when something tickled her face.

Her eyes cracked open to a view of red.

She flushed as she realized they had slept in one another's arms throughout the entirety of the night. She made to gently detangle herself from the woman's grasps, to flee from this compromising position, when the woman began to stir in her arms before she could make much progress.

Triss' held fast onto her hip, so she did her best to just relax into the touch. She brushed a loose red strand behind her ear, "how are you feeling?" she whispered, her lips nearly at the crown of her head.

Triss hummed, deep in her throat, as she stretched into Yennefer, burying her head further under her chin. Her breasts pushed up into her own, the arm around her waist tightened almost possessively, _"so good…"_ she moaned.

The air stilled as each woman froze; Triss' eyes flew open, the hand that once graced her waist removed itself with lightening speed, despite it's wound. Yennefer pushed herself back, trying to calm her wild heart, a heart that Triss surely heard.

"I-I mean so…so much better. I feel so much better," Triss rambled, her face alight with embarrassment. Yennefer had a strange unsettledness fluttering in her stomach. She could still feel Triss' breath on her clavicle, it had been so long since someone held her in such a way-

She rubbed her temples and rose from the bed, "good…that's good. Let me get your medicine then I'll start your healing."

Triss only nodded meekly as her face continued to burn, pulling the blankets up to her chin and gripping them with white knuckles. Yennefer laid out the supplies and handed the liquid to Triss, who took it without protest.

She stretched her back and sat at the chair, beginning her spells for the morning. The silence remained, but the air was filled with a familiar tension that Yennefer was desperate to ignore. She didn't look to Triss once during, and she was pretty sure she hadn't looked either, neither woman willing to speak on what had transpired.

Yennefer was always a firm believer in ignoring things until they went away on their own accord. It helped that within the hour the medicine had kicked in, and Triss became drowsy once again. Her eyes were closed, and she couldn't be sure if she was actually sleeping, but it brought relief nonetheless.

She finished a couple of hours later, by now it was late morning and the sunlight poured through the window. She let out a sigh, her body drained of the brief moment of energy she felt when she had awoken.

She shed the slip and bathed herself, she deciding on getting ready for the day. She wasn't sure if she should be climbing back into bed with Triss so soon after the awkward encounter.

She was finished washing herself, opting to sit in the warmth awhile longer, hoping it would help clear her head. Her back was to the woman, so she hadn't seen when she had woke from her slumber.

"Thank you," her soft voice floated through the air, weak and groggy with sleep. Yennefer was proud of herself for not jumping out of her skin, and she turned in the water to face her. "For last night. It really helped having you here."

A light blush dusted her cheeks, her hair tumbling over her shoulder in soft waves. She looked beautiful in that moment, and Yennefer felt her heart clench as she stifled the heat in her stomach.

"Of course," Yennefer said gently, as she rose from the tub. Triss worried her lip and averted her gaze, and this solidified Yennefer's suspicion that something was there. The fact that she wasn't nonchalant about her nudity, that she averted her gaze with a shy look upon her face, confirmed what Yennefer was trying to deny.

There was _definitely_ a form of sexual tension between them.

She wasn't sure when it happened, but she was sure it was only because of the situation. Yennefer was caring for her, and it is easy for victims to become enamored with their rescuers. Triss merely saw Yennefer in this new light of saving her life, for holding her gently, tending to her wounds, feeding and clothing her. It was her brain dealing with the abuse, with the isolation she was kept in at the mercy of iron fists.

And as for her own feelings on the matter…she was just protective, was all.

She dressed quickly in her black leather riding pants and matching gambeson, not wanting to linger unclothed any longer. With a wave her hair was dry and back into it's waves, and she sat at her dresser to do her makeup. It was rather silly really, considering she wasn't going anywhere, but it was a good distraction.

Triss remained sitting quietly; Yennefer was about to ask her if there was something she would like to talk about, or if she would like a book to read, when there was a resounding knock at the door.

Not the door below in the store, but of her loft, which meant it was likely only one person who was able to teleport inside.

She groaned involuntarily, slamming her makeup brush on the wood. The pain behind her eyes was back, and she rose reluctantly, hoping it would be brief.

"Who is that?" Triss asked, clearly concerned for Yennefer's distress.

She sighed through her nose, "I'm fairly certain its Philippa."

"Philippa…" her face betrayed no emotion, though she definitely didn't sound overjoyed either.

"She's going to want to see you," she said slowly, "is that alright?"

Triss looked unsure, her eyes appearing glazed over as she processed her words, then, "Yes…yes, that's fine."

"Are you sure?" she asked, doubt creeping into her voice. Triss looked uncomfortable to her, perhaps she was afraid of the repercussions if she denied Philippa audience, "you don't have to do this."

"Yes," Triss said as though snapping out of a daydream, her eyes more focused and determined than a moment ago, "it's alright."

She pursed her lips, unable to shake the doubt in her, but she relented and went to the door just as another persistent knock sounded off.

She swung open the door and Philippa was already crossing the threshold, her heels sounding in Yennefer's brain making her eye twitch as her temples throbbed. She shut the door and suppressed a scathing comment as she whirled around to face her.

"How is she?" Philippa asked in a low voice, her head swiveling in the direction of the hallway.

Yennefer cocked her hip, crossing her arms in front of her chest, "she's better. Most of her wounds have closed and the infection is gone. She's been awake and lucid for a couple of days now."

"You know very well I wasn't talking about her physical condition. I would hope that I was right to have faith in you regarding healing flesh wounds?"

"I- _yes,_ that all went fine," she stammered as her anger began to flare. She huffed in frustration, "she's doing as well as someone in her position can be expected, which obviously is a far cry from good. It's nothing I can't handle," she added with a glare.

"Has she spoken? What does she remember?" Philippa rushed as though she hadn't been listening to a word.

Yennefer pinched the bridge of her nose, "instead of interrogating me, why don't you go and speak to _her_. She can tell you what she wants you to know."

Philippa stood her ground for a moment, her jaw flexed. She turned her head toward the hall again, "which room?"

"Mine," she replied, before realizing how it sounded. Philippa's head snapped back to her again, her brows furrowed in disbelief.

"Oh for Gods sake, Yennefer," she mumbled as she shook her head.

She groaned in frustration, about ready to tear her hair out at this point, "no-there was an incident, okay? Just _go_."

Philippa stared at her a moment longer before making to leave. Yennefer grabbed her by the crook of the elbow, earning a very dangerous scowl from the woman.

"Go easy on her, Philippa," she said quietly. She hoped the woman took it as a warning, because she certainly meant it as such. She said nothing as she wrenched from her grip and continued without a second glance.

She waited until the sound of her insufferable heels clicked down the hallway before she released a breath she had been holding, for it threatened to release in the form of a heated insult hurled Philippa's way. The air felt thick as she worried for Triss, her arms feeling heavy with dread as she frantically looked for something to do. The diabolical part of her was desperate to listen in on their conversation, just to make sure she was alright, but she told herself that was crazy. Triss could take care of Philippa, and Philippa knew better than to try anything in her home.

She went to the kitchen and decided to catch up on dishes. While she was at it she prepared more food, deciding to roast some meat in case Triss' appetite grew better. At least while she was in there with Philippa, she could accomplish these tasks that she had to neglect previously. She seasoned the roast with various spices, hoping it would be to the woman's liking. She wasn't an experienced chef by any means, but she liked to think her food was edible.

She fed the meat to the flame and began to tidy up. She cleaned everything, the kitchen, the living area. She had told herself not to count the minutes they had been in there, but the temptation proved too great. After nearly an hour, she heard the door creak open, and the footfalls came echoing down the hall.

Philippa came into sight, her face set into a scowl. Bewildered, Yennefer lowered her arms her fingers twitching at her side as Philippa moved menacingly toward her, the distaste evident in her features even with the lack of eyes.

She stopped dangerously close, dangerous for Philippa, and Yennefer narrowed her eyes as her palms began to burn.

The tension in the air could be cut with a knife, the women staring at one another with equal disdain. After a moment Philippa finally spoke, and not a moment too soon. Yennefer was about ready to set her on fire.

"I don't know what it is you're doing," Philippa seethed, "but Triss informs me you've been rather nice to her, and it is her desire to remain here. I don't believe you can be nice to anything other than your own cunt-"

_"-Excuse me-?"_

Philippa ignored her, as though she didn't notice the chaos now crackling like lightning in her fingertips, or the way she bared her teeth like a predator, ready to strike. "-You were right, about her mental state being unstable, any half wit could see that. But there is a lot that you're oblivious to, dear Yennefer, so I tell you this; if you cause that woman any amount of unnecessary pain or suffering, I will have your head for it."

Yennefer was in shock as Philippa turned on her heel, yanking the large door open and slamming it behind her. She stood there frozen a moment, incredulous, as the chaos died down inside her. She barely had time to register Philippa's words, much less a retort, being far too angry in the first place to listen well enough.

Her head throbbed with painful white light, and she squeezed at her temples and let out a groan. She had to shut her eyes as she waited for the agony to subside, the light burning through her eyelids and into her skull.

 _Triss_.

She allowed herself a few deep breaths as she pushed herself from the doorframe and made her way back to the bedroom.

She had been crying; she was sitting propped on the pillows, wiping at her swollen eyes as the tears kept falling, her face scarlet. Yennefer's heart ached as she walked silently to the bed and perched on the edge of it, resting a hand on Triss' bicep.

"Are you alright?" she tried, her mind racing to a hundred conclusions of what Philippa might have said to her.

Triss didn't look alright, if her disheveled appearance was of any indication. Her eyes were tired and distant, full of an array of negative feelings that radiated from her person as her shoulders slumped with defeat.

"Yes," she certainly lied, "she's upset that I didn't go with her. That I wanted to stay here, with you…"

"I could tell that much," Yennefer sighed, "she let me have it in the doorway."

Triss' eyes widened with panic, "w-what did she say?"

Yennefer narrowed her gaze, studying her strange reaction. She wondered just exactly what they spoke of, and why she was so against Yennefer finding out.

"She told me I was oblivious," she said slowly, letting the words sink in in hoped that it would prompt Triss to reveal whatever it was that had her so on edge, but she didn't. She continued her distraught gaze, waiting for more. "And if I should cause you any harm or suffering she'll have my head."

Triss seemed relieved at Yennefer's answer, and she was terrible at hiding it. "I think she just worries for me…you would never hurt me."

Her statement came out sounding more like a question, something she was seeking confirmation in. Yennefer liked to think she would never harm Triss, never intentionally anyway. But Philippa's words still resounded in her head, and she struggled to find meaning in them.

"That's right," she soothed, giving Triss the reassurance she needed, "I will never let any harm come to you."

Triss gave her a meager half smile, before averting her eyes with a shy look upon her face. Yennefer's heart seized at the adorable display, before frustration set in over the fact that she cared at all.

She just wanted to feel normal again.

"I have a roast on," she said suddenly, "I figured some protein might be good for you, yeah?"

Triss' smile grew, much to Yennefer's delight, "yes, thank you."

Yennefer returned to the kitchen to the finished meat, cutting a generous piece into bite sized chunks for her. It smelled quite good, and she couldn't resist popping a few bites into her own mouth rather unceremoniously. She made sure to finish chewing before she returned.

She set the plate down at Triss' side, and her reward was the beaming smile that she earned. She had never seen Triss full on grin so far, and she had to hesitate to admire it for a moment.

"This smells _amazing_ , Yenna. I didn't know you had such a talent for cooking," she said softly and gratefully as she put a small piece in her mouth.

"I don't," Yennefer replied in amusement, "I must have just gotten lucky with this one."

The day was ticking away into the late afternoon, far too early to begin Triss' healing again. She glanced to the bookshelf, "do you want me to read to you?"

Her face heated when she realized that Triss was probably unaware that Yennefer had made a habit out of reading her stories each evening, making the question sound a little off putting.

Triss chewed slowly and swallowed, "you…you read to me before, didn't you?"

Yennefer turned to face her as she lingered at the bookshelf, her brows knitting together, "you heard that?"

"Bits and pieces," Triss admitted, "your voice is…soothing."

Yennefer hid her blush by burying her face in the bookcase, pretending to be scanning the titles. She had never once heard her voice be described as soothing. Scathing maybe, intimidating definitely, but never soothing.

Perhaps Triss had a worse head injury than she thought.

She selected one of her _Heroes of Skellige_ volumes, as most else of what she had was a dry bore. At least this was something.

It was even more bizarre reading to the woman now that she was conscious, but she was a good audience. Once she had finished her plate she closed her eyes, making Yennefer feel a little more comfortable.

The day passed rather quickly after that. She lost herself in the story for a couple of hours, before realizing the time as well as Triss' slumber. She wondered with a smile if it was her "soothing" voice that put her out.

As evening drew, she had begun her nightly healing and bandage changing. Triss awoke to the sensation of movement, and the tension that had been suffocating the both of them just that morning seemed to have dissipated. They even spoke here and there, just menial conversation but it satisfied Yennefer whenever she plucked another answer from the woman. Her favorite food (braised salmon), her favorite wine (Toussaint red), and even little tidbits from her childhood. Yennefer had to do most of the talking, but she still took this as progress, even if it wasn't much.

It was when she finished healing her that the apprehension set in again. The night was drawing to a close, and soon she would find herself in bed with her, just as she did last night. She was being ridiculous she knew, it was _just_ sleep. She was clearly over analyzing the entire morning, creating something from nothing. She had no reason to feel this way.

And Triss was not crying right now, she would be alright. She is just going to roll over, and she will go to sleep.

She changed rather quickly into her small clothes, and tried to still her beating heart as she pulled the covers back. The familiar warmth engulfed her straight away, and it almost made all of the strange nervousness worth it. Triss was facing away from her, as she was the night prior, but there was an air of calm around her this time.

Yennefer swallowed, her mouth suddenly feeling very dry, as she lay on her back and burned a hole through the ceiling.

She _wanted_ to be closer.

And she hated herself for it.

Her stomach plunged when Triss moved; as though feeling it too, the want to be closer, her good arm reached blindly behind her, seeking out Yennefer's hand. She gave it to her without thinking, and allowed herself to be pulled flush against her. She wondered for a brief moment if Triss was reading her mind, though she knew she would never disrespect her in such a way.

Triss guided her hand to her stomach, her _bare_ stomach where the shirt had ridden up to her middle. Yennefer felt a heat in her abdomen, her mind screaming at her to stop, to pull away, but her body was no longer her own.

Her hand was burning, itching to move along the expanse of skin. As though testing the waters, she expanded her fingertips, and began to rake small circles with her nails around her navel. Triss made a sound, one of pleasure, deep in her throat, and her trembling fingertips were spurred on to continue.

To hear her again.

_This is wrong._

She tried to fight with herself that it wasn't; Triss clearly wanted this, and Yennefer couldn't deny that she did too. They weren't actually _doing_ anything, so if it brought them both comfort, where was the harm in that?

She continued to explore her taught stomach, relishing how the muscles tensed and released under her touch.

She wasn't opposed to hearing _that_ sound again, when her nails glided across the jut of her hip.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your lovely reviews! I enjoyed writing this one, I hope you all like it!

Three days had passed.

Three days of early morning and long nights spent hunched over the grievous injury, feeling the magic drain her body leaving her in a state of exhaustion most of the time. But the wound had healed remarkably, the once mangled end now grown over with new, soft skin. It was still pink, the skin weak and delicate like the wings of a butterfly. She could finally allow the rest of the healing come naturally, save for her knee that she had been neglecting.

As for Triss' emotional state, it remained to be seen. Unfortunately, the progress seemed to have peaked, for while she was able to coax a smile out of the woman at least once per day, the amount of tears she shed crushed any ounce of positivity they came by. She would stare off into walls, as though they held they answer as to why her life was punished so, and when she wasn't doing that she was staring at her arm, at her body, with a look of disgusted anger at what she had become.

It was unfair. More than unfair, it was _unjust_ , what Triss had suffered, and rage twisted in her gut every time she remembered slitting the throats of those guards. If she had only known then, she would have mutilated them slowly, so they would taste every ounce of agony that they force fed Triss.

She didn't speak much. She hadn't before anyway, but Yennefer would always speak to her. She would read their book when she wasn't talking directly _to_ her, filling the air with the sound of her voice, a reminder to the woman that she was not alone. When she did speak Yennefer listened, intently hanging on every word, every whisper, tattooing it into her mind and always trying to coax her to say more.

Three nights had passed.

Three nights of Yennefer shedding her skin under the protective cover of darkness, becoming something very different than who she was when the sun rose. Triss did too, as though the night was a private screen, the safety inside great enough to act in ways they wouldn't normally act, to behave in ways they didn't behave in the presence of sunlight.

Inhibitions be damned.

There were boundaries they crossed, but they crossed them together. Triss was not as naïve as she may let on, she knew very well that their actions were intimate, beyond that of a normal friendship. Her face still heated when she thought about it, how bold she was becoming, how dangerously close they were to committing to something that couldn't be undone, nor forgotten.

It began with the lightest of caresses; it was comfort, soothing her, it put Triss to sleep and dried her tears for the time being. It was well known that back rubs were relaxing, and who didn't like their hair played with? It made Triss happy, and it warmed Yennefer inside to give that to her.

But what was once strange but innocent, was now becoming tainted with ulterior feelings behind every action. After she had caressed her stomach three nights ago, again and again Triss would place her hand there, and she would wander, uninterrupted. If anything, the ministrations were welcome, according to the soft mewls that would sound in the woman's throat every so often.

She was now dipping dangerously close to areas that would undeniably be considered far outside the boundaries of friendship. She would drag her nails further with each passing night, as though she were possessed, a previously slumbering part of her further awakening each time she did. She would travel to the edge of her breasts, where the soft curve began, before she would have to tear her hand away before taking it too far. But then she would explore lower, as far as the waist of her small clothes, another few inches and she would meet the patch of hair where her womanhood began.

What gutted her the most was how _excitable_ it all was. The temptation, the curiosity of Triss' reaction, the anticipation she felt whenever she came close to the swell of her breast or the mound below. She didn't know how she had allowed it to get this far, when her brain had been screaming at her long before this.

She didn't know what to make of it anymore, she was so far gone.

They didn't speak on it. The nights when Yennefer would wrap her arms around her were wordless, as though nothing needed to be said, they already knew their roles and filled them well. When the morning came and they detangled their limbs from one another, they said not a word then either, unless it was Yennefer asking her how she was feeling. They would carry on about their day, speaking as though it never happened, or that it was _normal_.

She liked it that way. She knew it wasn't healthy, she knew it was becoming a problem, but as she did with everything else, she would rather look the other way then have that conversation.

She found she didn't have much time today to focus on her increasingly confusing and potentially damaging feelings, however.

Triss was in a bad way.

She had known as soon as they awoke, because she wouldn't even turn to face her. She knew she was awake, by the purposeful, stiff way she contracted when Yennefer left her side. She debated on asking how she was feeling, but thought better of it at the last moment. Yennefer knew her, and they both knew she didn't have to ask.

Then she had went to heal Triss' knee for awhile, and Triss begrudgingly rolled over to allow her to do so. Yennefer had to tug at her gently, even though Triss knew why she was there. Nothing was said between them for the hour she remained there, and the worry began to stir in her chest.

She offered her breakfast, and in a flat voice she claimed she wasn't hungry. Triss had eaten for her every morning thus far, and another warning flag nagged at her mind, and underneath her composed demeanor she admittedly felt small waves of panic.

Of course, she already knew, or at least suspected the reason for Triss' foul mood. Today was the day Yennefer was to help her out of bed, to test how her knee was coming along, and she knew from the beginning that she wanted no part of it. Her depression was literally rendering her bedridden, at first it was her physical injuries, and now it was her mind holding her back. She saw no point to walking, as walking would lead to living, and she had no desire to live as a cripple.

But maybe she wouldn't become one, if she would just take that first step out of bed and into rehabilitation. Yennefer was prepared to do everything in her power to give Triss the gift of her magical abilities, at the strength they once were, with both of her limbs if possible.

Triss said she would try, but it was obvious she didn't want to, and perhaps never had any intention of doing so.

It was still morning. She would give the woman some more time before she would have to force her out of there. If she continued to coddle her the way she had been, Triss would never do it for herself. Then again, if it wasn't for her, Triss wouldn't even stay alive for herself.

Even when she bathed, Triss said nothing, so far wrapped in the blankets she could scarcely her. Even when Yennefer had finished readying herself, she was without question intent on remaining taciturn. She turned from where she sat at the dresser beside the bed, and Triss just buried herself further. Yennefer couldn't take it anymore, the silence was stretching on far too long, and if she didn't speak now she never would.

"Triss?" she tried gently, resting a hand on the lump of blankets, "talk to me, what's wrong?"

"I don't feel well today," she said quietly, her voice full of everything broken in her.

Yennefer peeled back the top of the blankets, just enough to expose Triss' ear. She brushed her hair behind it and leaned in close.

"I know you don't want to do this," she whispered, her breath ghosting over her ear, "but we both know you _need_ this, Triss. I just want you to try, just a bit, then you can come back and rest."

Much to her disappointment, Triss remained silent, as though she hadn't heard a word she said. She didn't even flinch, and she didn't agree to trying with her. Yennefer didn't want this to turn confrontational, and maybe it wasn't even her place to push her, but after spending countless hours and energy healing her, she needed Triss to put forth _some_ effort.

Suddenly, something chimed in her living room. She knew the sound, it was the mechanism to the door of the shop. Someone was knocking, and she couldn't help but feel relieved at the sudden interruption. The tension in the air was palpable today, and she could use a reason to escape and gather her thoughts.

Though, this may be the worst time. She worried for leaving Triss here today, something she hadn't felt too strongly for a few days now.

"I'm going to go see who that is," Yennefer said softly as she pet her hair, "I won't be gone long. Just…just rest here, and I'll be back."

Much like talking to a wall, she was unsurprised when she received no answer. She let her hand linger in her fiery tresses a beat longer, before tearing her gaze from her covered form. Part of her wanted to take her in her arms, lift her from the bed and embrace her as she aided her standing, but that would be going against her ridiculous rules, as though they actually meant something.

She exited the loft and made her way down to the store. She missed it here, the smells, the satisfied customers. It was fulfilling to do what she loved, she already knew of her power, already proved it to the world, she need not continue on that path.

Power was once something she thirsted for, the drive to seek more nearly drove her mad, not to mention the countless times she had endangered her life on her foolhardy quest. She was already perhaps the most powerful sorceress in the world, and it took far too long to realize that was enough. Anything more and she would surely lose herself in it.

It was refreshing to return to her roots. To see her magic actually doing some good, no matter how mundane it might seem, it felt as though she were making a difference with each patron she assisted. There was no major threats to face, none that would require her attention anyway, if men wanted to tear themselves apart in war, she was not inclined to stop them unless it affected her directly.

_You're wrong._

There was a very real threat, one she hadn't thought of dealing with until it became personal.

Radovid was still hunting Sorceresses, and she couldn't ensure Triss' safety so long as he lived. He would find her, it was clear he would exhaust his resources scouring the edges of the continent to bring her back and eventually end her life.

 _Let them come,_ the darkness of her mind threatened, _let them see the power you wield_.

Clearing her mind, she opened the door, the sunlight nearly blinding her after being shut upstairs for so long. Her eyes drifted downward, and she beamed at the figure that stood before her.

Ailbert and his large toothy grin, his eyes crinkling under his wild eyebrows. He carried with him a large ornate box, beautiful in craftsmanship, the dark oak littered with intricate designs woven throughout the finish.

"Ailbert," she greeted warmly as she stood aside, "please, come in." He shuffled over the threshold, allowing her to close the door behind him.

"Madam Yennefer!" he exclaimed in his ever cheery voice, "I hope this past week has found ye' well?"

"As well as to be expected," she sighed. She nodded towards the box he had set upon the table, "don't tell me it's finished already?"

He smiled a knowing smile at her, "aye, I put all me other commissions on hold. The Ofieri fella had a travelling merchant working for him, I was able to get me hands on the materials right quick. I'm not one fer boastin', but I think you'll agree it's me finest work yet."

"Oh, Ailbert," she said fondly, "you didn't have to put your work on hold for me."

"It was me pleasure, Madam Yennefer!" he remarked with a short bow, "I know how important it was ta ye', and ye' were more than generous with yer' payment." He rubbed his stubby hands together, placing his fingers on either side of the lid, "well, shall we?"

She was barely able to contain her excitement when she nodded at him, the corners of her lips tugging into a smile. She couldn't have been prepared when he opened the box, revealing what may be the jarring difference Triss desperately needed in her life to find some semblance of normalcy.

 _Brilliant_.

More than brilliant; it was exquisite, perhaps not only Ailbert's finest piece, but the finest she had ever laid eyes on. The majority of it was a delicate chainmail, though the chains were smaller, daintier than that on armor made for battle. It couldn't possibly be made of silver, none of it could, for it shone brighter than that, mirroring every beam of light it caught making it look as though it were sparkling. Adornments travelled in a weaving line up the length of the arm, nearly a foot past the glove itself, in the shape of pristine roses and delicate leaves. The back of the hand, and around the palm, was a plate of the striking metal, the edges seeping outwards on the hand and wrist of the arm like roots of a tree. It too, had master etched designs, as detailed as the roses. The knuckles of the fingers sported decorated rings of the same material, and the tips of her fingers were pointed elegantly, giving the illusion of feminine nails.

Her hand came to clasp her mouth as her eyes drank it all in, every sensational line and carving, and she could almost feel the aches in her back that Ailbert must have felt as he hunched over detailing the fine metal.

"Tha runes be embedded in tha palm, under tha plate," he said as he shuffled closer, "may I?"

She wanted to tell him how wonderful it was, how utterly thankful she felt, and insist he took more coin, but the mere sight of it had rendered her speechless. She was desperate to hear his descriptions of the master crafted piece, and only managed a nod.

He gently picked up the gauntlet, holding it up before her eyes, "it's made of white steel, hardened by tha gland acid from an archgriffin. Tha chains are small for a reason, ta allow more fluid movement. What ye' can't see is underneath an' in between tha chain of the arm, there be wee links that slide-" he pulled on the opening of the glove, opening it up wide, before retracting it again, "-it stretches. Should just fit right over tha extremity, leaving no need fer' buckles or straps, I made it go ta the elbow just ta be sure."

"Ailbert," she finally managed, removing the hand that cupped her mouth and moving it to her fluttering heart, "Brilliant. Simply brilliant. I…I just can't believe it. It's more than I could have _ever_ imagined!"

He grinned happily, pleased with the praise of his work. "Tha inside," he continued, even more excited than before, "it's made of a fine material, Madam Yennefer, a very fine material indeed. I didn't use silk, fer it would get quite hot after a short while, but an Ofieri cotton. Tha end, tha fingers an' most of tha hand, are stuffed with it. Combined with tha weight of tha metal I'd wager it would weigh about what a hand would. This way it's comfortable, breathable, and tha links won't pinch."

He placed it back on the velvet blanket inside of the box. Sighing, he crossed his arms, "Now, I can't rightfully say if the runes will make a difference in yer' friends magic, but witchers find them ta be quite effective with their signs. I'd wager it's got a chance."

Yennefer strode quickly to the counter of her shop, disappearing behind it for a moment. When she emerged, she carried another large sack of coin, holding it out eagerly to the dwarf.

"Oh, Madam Yennefer, I couldn't-" he said quickly, backing a step and waving his hands.

"Please, Ailbert," she pleaded, pressing the coin into his hands. She held them there a moment, "you're a dear friend, doing this for me, and my words could never be enough to thank you. At least let me cover your losses while you worked on this. It would mean so much to me."

He blushed as a shy smile graced his face, his whiskers twitching in delight. He shuffled on each foot as he slowly took the coin from her, a hand coming to scratch at the back of his neck.

"Aweh, Freya herself," he chuckled, "bless you, Madam Yennefer. There may be some adjustments needed, some links removed or added. Ye' come an' let me know, I'll be glad to touch it up fer ye'."

"Of course, thank you again, for everything."

She walked him to the door, and with a final warm smile he was off. She cradled the box in her arms like the precious cargo it was and began to ascend the stairs.

She debated on gifting her the new prosthetic, considering it might be just what she needed for a shift in attitude. At the same time, it could have a very opposite effect, serving as another reminder of her new disability. She wrestled with herself as the entered the loft, before ultimately deciding the risk was far too great and opted to place it on the shelf instead. She stared at it longingly for a moment, wondering if the time would ever feel right to give something so personal.

With a final click of her tongue she started down the hallway, fully expecting Triss to be in the same spot she was, and for once today the woman did not disappoint her. She rounded the bed, to try and catch a glimpse of her, pulling the blankets back slightly as she did so.

Either she was pretending to be asleep, or she was actually asleep, but Yennefer wasn't about to question it. Still trying to avoid a confrontation, she suppressed a sigh and sat at her desk. She decided to read one of her more boring titles of non-fiction, researching ways to enhance her current recipes. Just for a little while, she told herself, surely the woman wouldn't be sleeping on.

Surely, she wouldn't make Yennefer wake her up.

But that was exactly what she was doing. Yennefer let it drag on, irritation beginning to drum in her temples, as her literature became increasingly hard to follow the longer the hours stretched. Triss hadn't even budged save for one or two slight shifts, and the irony of it all was almost laughable.

She was hiding from the things she did not wish to face, just as Yennefer was doing, yet it began to anger her regardless.

This was not the same. She was doing this for Triss' benefit, to try and salvage the life she has left so she may live it with a chance at happiness. If she continued to be stubborn she would only be harming herself, and Yennefer already made a promise that she would not allow harm to come to her.

The biggest danger to Triss was not Radovid, but herself.

Without thinking she slammed the book shut, perhaps a little harder than she ought to, and she swore she saw a flinch under the heap of blankets. Her boots clicked on the floor as she made her way over, not bothering to be quiet, she wanted the woman to know she was there.

She pulled back the blankets to her middle, "Come on," she said, not unkindly.

Triss didn't move, and made no attempt to roll over to face her. "I'm…I'm dizzy," was the lame response she got. Triss couldn't even manage to sound like she believed her own lie.

Yennefer pulled the blankets even further, until she was completely exposed to the air. "I didn't give you any medicine this morning," she said slowly, "I know that you're not."

"It hurts."

A vein in Yennefer's forehead throbbed at how childish Triss was being. She tried to reign in her impatience, but this wasn't the Triss she knew. The word pathetic kept flashing angrily in her mind, though she didn't dare say it. She breathed deep, before pulling at her bicep, forcing her to roll over. Her eyes were devoid of emotion, but her jaw was set stubbornly.

"I just need to see how the progress is," Yennefer said, unable to hide the sternness in her words, "I'm not asking you to walk up a mountain."

Her hands met resistance when she tried to pull her to a sitting; she was still able to accomplish it, but she could tell Triss had put forth no effort. The pang of irritation thrummed again, with greater force than before, her stomach beginning to roil at the unwelcome feeling.

"Let's go," she whispered, afraid if she rose her voice any louder she would have ended up yelling it. Triss didn't need her yelling at her, it wouldn't help the situation. She pulled at her elbows to raise her, but Triss kept them firm at her sides. Yennefer shot her a look of displeasure, her brows furrowing at the resistance.

"I don't want to," Triss said stubbornly, fracturing Yennefer's nerves further.

"You have to, stop being like this. It's just for a moment, will you _please_ cooperate?" Yennefer wasn't asking though. As soon as she was finished speaking she pulled at her again, this time succeeding in pulling her to her feet, though it wasn't without a noise of frustration from Triss.

For a moment they stood, nearly flush together, so close she could feel Triss' breath on her neck. Triss had her arms on Yennefer's elbows as well, gripping onto them tightly. She could hear her labored breathing, dreading being here with her. Yennefer found she was running out of sympathy in this moment, never being one to have spectacular patience in the first place.

When her breathing regulated slightly, as much as she could stand waiting for it to, she stepped to the side, placing her arm gently under Triss'.

"Alright, we're just going to test your weight on it; take a gentle step forward."

Nothing.

Yennefer gave her the slightest nudge from behind, her eyes narrowing again, but was met with the same infuriating resistance as before. Part of her told her to just give in, send Triss back to bed, try again another day. If she didn't, this was all going to come to a head, and if she knew herself at all it wasn't going to be pretty.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked flatly, annoyed with how Triss wouldn't even look her way.

"Why are _you_ doing _this?_ " she shot back, her eyes still fixed on the floor, "I told you I'm…I'm not ready."

"If I let you have your way, you would never be ready. I'm not asking for much, Triss."

She knew the words stung when Triss turned her gaze to her, her eyes narrowed in the same annoyance that Yennefer felt. "Why do you care so much?"

Yennefer let out a humorless laugh, "perhaps I don't wish to see you wasting away in that bed."

"You want your bed back?" Triss drawled out, almost in a teasing way, though not playful. The kind that was meant to poke at Yennefer, that frayed her nerves to the point of breakage.

"No, Triss, quit avoiding this. You know it has nothing to do with me, or the bed. This is about _you_."

Triss' jaw flexed, "I suppose you know what's best for me?"

"Better than you do in this moment, yes." She tried not to sound condescending, but there was no other way for it to be taken at this point anyway.

Triss' smile was anything but friendly; it was full of malice, like a child about to do something wrong, fully knowing of the consequences but following through anyway.

"Maybe I'll just stay there until you force me to walk, when you inevitably kick me out of your life _again_."

Successfully, she had broken through Yennefer's carefully placed wall of patience and understanding. She knew Triss was in pain, but she was also a grown woman, and Yennefer would be damned if after everything Triss had put her through, both before and after her capture, she would allow the woman to dare disrespect her. She stepped back from where she had been supporting her, moving in front of her instead, forcing Triss to stand gingerly on one leg alone.

"You asked for it the first time," she seethed as she leaned in closer to the woman, "do you really want to ask for it a second?"

But Triss squared up to her, despite her shorter stature, sticking her chin out defiantly as she glared up into her own eyes, the tension in the air rising to dangerous levels. It was as though chaos itself was electrifying the room, charging their already heated emotions.

"Yeah you _love_ this, Yennefer, exuding your power over others, pushing and pulling people in and out of your life to suit your needs. It's your obsessive need to keep control, that's why you're pushing me now, it's why you'll never _look_ at me when night falls, it's the entire reason behind that nice facade you've been putting on _so_ well! You're just too afraid of your own feelings to realize it!"

"Afraid of my feelings?" She scoffed, "more like wise enough to avoid frivolous distractions!"

Yennefer had raised her voice now, and she realized that they both had been since the beginning of whatever this was. She was suddenly wondering how they got here, unable to recall when it all spiraled out of control. What irked her most was that Triss was right about her desperate, borderline unhealthy obsessions with having the upper hand, the need to have total control. Her mentioning their nightly endeavors threw it all back in her face, forcing her to look at the coward she was.

But she ignored it and threw up the only defense she knew. Baring her teeth, not like a smile but a threat, she towered over the woman as rage coursed through her veins, pumping back to her chest and squeezing painfully.

"And _now_ you're going to throw my being nice to you in my face? What the fuck do you want Triss, a reaction? To punish you? Cruelty? I'm sorry, but I'll never be your precious Philippa fucking Eilhart-!"

_CRACK!_

Her head shot to the side by the force. Within seconds the sting began to set in like a thousand pinpricks pinching at her reddened cheek, and she twisted her jaw as to shake the pain that vibrated through it upon contact.

Her head swiveled back to Triss, her eyes widening as she glanced between the scarlet palm of her hand, and the determined look of pure anger still etched in her features as she stared right back, as though daring her to hit her.

She wouldn't have to dare her, Yennefer was already moving.

Her vision tunneled into a bloody haze of a filter, and she felt something hard in the grip of her left hand. It was the underside of Triss' bicep, her fingers clenching it so hard she was sure she would bruise the skin but she hadn't a single care.

Her other hand had already shot violently to her throat, gripping her under the jaw until her nails were nearly breaking through the soft flesh, the desire to squeeze insurmountable in her stomach. Her mind was an inferno, blazing through every thought of rationality that she had desperately clung onto.

She pushed forward, slamming the woman into the wood as she met the wall, further pushing her hand into her jugular. She pulled her back by a hair of an inch just to thrust her into it again, relishing in every small flinch she got out of her.

She was an inch from her now, her teeth still flashing and her hand twitching on her neck, desperate to push further, to watch her choke on the words she dared speak aloud to Yennefer of Vengerberg, a woman whose wrath knew no bounds.

An inch from her face, they panted heavily into one another, neither daring to move another inch further. She just held her there, feeling the muscles of her neck throb against her hand, the feeling satisfying her uncontrollable frenzy.

She looked into her eyes, burning her own gaze into her, but something in Triss' expression made her falter in a major way. She expected to be met with fear, with regret, and for that moment where Triss would apologize and beg her to stop, but she wasn't prepared for the non discovery of any of those things.

Triss eyes had widened with what could only be described as a strange curiosity, maybe even anticipation as she waited. She broke the contact when she blinked slowly, and her eyes darted to her lips through hooded lids. She breathed hard against Yennefer's mouth, and she could see her pupils dilate rapidly before her eyes.

A soft, pink tongue darted across her lips.

Something very different, perhaps worse, shattered inside of Yennefer, and with a sinking feeling she realized it was her resolve.

She crashed her lips into Triss', slamming her further into the wall as her grip tightened under her arm, holding her in place as she devoured her like a starved beast. She felt Triss hand fly to her shoulder, pulling at the leather to drag her roughly to her, as flush as she could get them.

Still gripping her jaw she forcefully tilted Triss' head to allow her better access. Triss' tongue was already ready for her, locking themselves in a battle for dominance as she forced her way into Yennefer's mouth, so deep she nearly gagged at the obstruction.

But Triss was weak, and Yennefer was not. She pulled at Triss to push her roughly into the wall once more, asserting her dominance over her, the nails on her neck pressing into her until she could feel the skin breaking.

Weakly, Triss tried to push back as she gasped into Yennefer's parted lips, their tongues everywhere, desperate to stay connected and intake air at the same time. The door was opened, the one she had been trying to keep shut all these nights, the mounting sexual tension between them boiling over in a fit of violent need.

Pain throbbed at her lip as Triss took it into her teeth, eliciting a hiss through her throat as her abdomen clenched.

She thrust her thigh in between Triss' legs without thinking, her heated core burning through the leather of her pants, and it was only when Triss' sharp cry pushed past her lips and into the thick air around them that reality crashed down upon her.

She felt a rush of wetness between her thighs as Triss moaned against her, the sound jarring her from the heated moment, the feeling of her slick undergarments stirring up conflicting feelings too complex to bear.

" _fuck_ …fuck!"

The curse tore past her lips as she jumped back, as though Triss' mouth was fire itself, she could still feel the burning tingling that lingered. Triss' stayed at the wall, her chest heaving with each labored breath, her face a beautiful shade of scarlet and her hair in disarray.

Yennefer touched her lips and flinched away, putting her hand over her heart as though it had any effect at stilling the thunderous beat.

"I…I don't know what's come over me," was all she could say, unsure if she was speaking to Triss or herself. Her nose began to sour as the familiar prick of tears stung at her eyes, "I-I'm sorry."

She knew the right thing to do was stay; to talk this out with Triss, not leave her to deal with it by herself. It was her that initiated it after all, but she truly didn't know where it had all came from. It frightened her, that she had lost control in that way without even realizing it. And it wasn't chaste in any way, it was full of a mutually shared desire, a burning arousal that tore through her gut, and unbridled passion. It made her feel good, it made her feel guilty, and admittedly more confused than she had ever been used to.

She hadn't even noticed she was backing away from her like a frightened animal, the utterly broken look on Triss' face not even registering. Her mouth opened and closed lamely as though she wanted to give her an explanation, but she had none.

She was out of the room, where her shameful tears could flow freely, running from her problems as though they would never catch her.


	8. Chapter 8

_Alcohol_.

She needed it. She needed it like it was the air she breathed, because the air around her was far too difficult to swallow. She needed something else, something stronger.

Wine was out. She reached to the back of the cabinet, the glasses sat around her wrist tinkling as she shoved them aside like a woman gone mad, reaching for the tall bottle of clear liquid resting at the back.

Vodka.

She pulled the cork out with a trembling hand, tossing it aside onto the counter where it rolled to the floor forgotten. Without hesitating she brought it to her lips, letting the burning liquid cascade past her lips and down her throat, leaving a satisfying heat trailing to her stomach.

It wasn't enough. She grimaced and gasped for air, her tears running as hot as the liquid itself, and she clumsily brought the bottle back to her mouth, tipping it's contents into her with a fierce generosity. She wanted it to burn her, she _needed_ it to kill whatever it was inside her that made her act so irrationally.

She repeated the process, drinking the bottle in massive gulps that left her breathless and hunched over the countertop, before she could regulate her breathing and do it all over again. It wasn't until the once full bottle was nearly half gone, and the burn had spread to the tips of her toes and fingers, that she finally slammed it on the counter

She lurched, as the fiery contents threatened to come back up, but she swallowed the dizzying feeling. There was a shift as the alcohol began to take it's effect, the iron grip of panic loosening in her chest, her mind beginning to fog pleasantly.

She turned from the counter and strode carefully to the couch, placing a hand on the edge to assist her into a sitting. She groaned as she lowered herself, the alcohol doing nothing for the sadness that ached her heart. If she hadn't been inebriated, her mind would surely be racing with guilt of her embarrassing actions, and while she knew running to a bottle wouldn't solve anything, that her problems would still be there to face her come morning, at least temporarily she could pretend.

She ran her hands over her face, the feeling barely registering through her numbed skin. She couldn't help but wonder what was going through Triss' mind now, as she sat alone in that room Yennefer left her so cruelly in.

She had kissed her back with equal fervor.

What was this between them? It certainly wasn't nothing, Yennefer had seen to that. Considering it was something that she _didn't_ want to address, she certainly never found a shortage of ways to bring it all up again. She shouldn't have done this; Triss didn't need the confusion, even more so than Yennefer, but she didn't see how they could come back from this now.

She hid out there in that living area, fading in and out of consciousness for what seemed like hours, her body unwilling to return to her chambers to face the mess she created for herself. Maybe it was because Triss was right about everything, and it was the shame that it brought her that prevented her armor from coming off, from admitting her faults and finding a solution.

She could still picture the way the other woman's face had flushed as they broke apart, the arousal in her features as apparent as it was between her own legs. She could _feel_ the sting of her teeth on her lip, and much to her annoyance her abdomen pulsed again with the memory.

This couldn't happen again; Triss needed to focus on her recovery, the only reason the two of them are acting this way is the hero/victim complex that they both found themselves in, and in the end, Yennefer wasn't sure if she could ever trust Triss not to use this against her.

The thought of Philippa and her sneering face came to mind.

She felt terrible for their fight, too. She wasn't sure how it had gotten out of hand so quickly, but perhaps it had been a long time coming. Triss had been quiet for most of her recovery, but under the surface she was probably losing her sanity, coping with the loss of her limb, the confusion to waking up in Yennefer's house, of all people. Being confined to a bed, the knowledge of the defilement of her body, maybe it had all been coming to a head.

Instead of being understanding, she pushed her. Instead of being patient, she became short and unkind. And to add insult to injury, Yennefer took her like some horny man, pushing her against the wall to inflict _more_ control over her.

She had to apologize.

As much as her pride screamed at her not to, she knew she was wrong. Triss hadn't exactly been _right_ , either, saying the things she did. But Triss had an excuse to act irrationally, Yennefer did not. It was up to her to be the person Triss needed her to be.

She remained on the couch, until she was hopeful that Triss had at least fallen asleep. She figured an apology might be better on a new day, but she supposed she would have to take what she could get. She couldn't hide from her forever.

At least the effects of the alcohol had subsided some; she doubted she would get very far if she went in as inebriated as she did a couple of hours ago. She didn't want to imagine how she might have behaved then, if Triss turned to her and tried to capture her lips again-

 _No_.

She shook her head as she rose from the couch. Swaying slightly, she made her way down the hall, each step spiking her once dormant anxiety. She creaked the door open, peering inside before she committed.

She was greeted by darkness; she could make out the shape of the woman under the blankets, and with a pang of guilt she realized she hadn't even assisted her back into the bed. At least she knew her knee must be somewhat working now.

She entered slowly, closing the door behind her as silently as possible. She made to unclasp her gambeson, removing her clothes with as much grace as she could muster in her current situation, though she stumbled when it came time to remove her boots.

The sound of her boot colliding with the floor was enough to make the form under the blankets begin to stir, and Yennefer cursed her lack of self control when it came to dealing with her problems in a healthy manner. Red hair emerged from the confines of the sheets, and then Triss was looking at her, her eyes full of questions she didn't ask. Though she did ask-

"Have you been drinking?"

Yennefer supposed the room must smell like vodka now that she was present, "yes," she said quietly.

She could feel her eyes on her as she finished shedding her clothes. She debated a moment if it was a good idea to even stay in here, if her willpower would allow it, but the way Triss was looking at her told her she needed her to stay with her. She caused this whole mess, the least she could do was pick up after herself.

She drew back the blankets and settled in next to her. Triss didn't move, as though she was unsure what to say to Yennefer at this time, afraid to be the first to address what transpired. Not until Yennefer made her own decision, to wrap her arms around the woman just as she did every night, pulling her to her chest. Heat spread through her heart at the familiar contact, and to her relief (or anxiety, she wasn't sure), Triss had embraced her back, wrapping both her limbs around her waist as she buried her head under her chin. She could feel a wetness there was Triss' tears ran fresh, and she braced herself for what was to come.

"I-I'm sorry, Yenna, I'm sorry I was so horrible to you," she whimpered, the broken way she said her nickname was enough to twist the knife in her chest, "I should have _never_ said th-those things to you. I d-didn't mean it, any of it. It just hurts _so bad…"_

She wept and Yennefer pulled her closer, tracing lazy circles on her back in an effort to comfort her, "No, Triss, you have nothing to apologize for. You needed me to listen to you, and instead I…"

_Kissed you._

"…I threw it back in your face. You were right, it was my insufferable need for control that turned me into a monster. I don't…I don't want you to resent me."

She hated how her own eyes grew misty at the end.

"I'm going to try, from now on," Triss whispered quietly, her lips grazing the skin of her chest.

"Triss-"

"No, Yenna, I want to. I _need_ to, I just hope…you won't give up on me."

She pressed her lips to the crown of Triss head, patting her hair lovingly, "I would never give up on you. Tomorrow we can start fresh, clean slate."

"Deal," Triss muttered as she tightened her grip in an embrace, and Yennefer could hear the smile in her voice. It abated her worries some, knowing Triss felt as bad about their fight as she did, and the promise of a new tomorrow made her feel optimistic. What's more, Triss hadn't even brought up the fact that Yennefer kissed her out of nowhere. She must know Yennefer better than she thought, knowing very well that she wouldn't want to talk about it.

The thought was a little sad, with more guilt than she would have liked.

She tried to bury the feeling deep in the pit of her stomach, opting to enjoy the moment she was currently living in instead. She inhaled deep and with content, a jarring difference from how she felt just a short while ago. Her eyelids grew exponentially heavier, the alcohol weighing her down like lead. Her mind was a pleasant calm when sleep quickly took her.

* * *

She awoke late the next morning, far more so than usual thanks to her poor decisions the night before. Even when her mind was being pulling into consciousness, she didn't open her eyes right away, the throbbing in her temples warning enough. She groaned as she rolled over, her arms coming to stretch across the bed into the sheets.

The sheets.

Her brows furrowed as she cracked an eye open, her state of haze ramping up into full cognizance when she realized with a start that the bed was empty. Her stomach knotted into a state of unsettledness as she glanced around the room, her eyes going to the tub, but she found it empty.

_Gods no._

She had really done it now; Triss, in her still weakened state, appeared to have fled from Yennefer's home. She decided to save her self loathing for later, perhaps if she left now she could still find her, it wasn't plausible that Triss would be strong enough to conjure a portal.

She raced down the hallway; she hadn't even bothered to change from her small clothes, opting to see if she could catch her in the stairwell or perhaps spot her out the window. Her steps padded furiously on the marble, her heart thudding maddeningly with worry in her chest.

Until something stopped her.

Her steps slowed as her nose piqued in the air; there was a pleasant aroma, the familiar scent of meat, ham to be specific, and a faint sizzling reached her ears. Confused, she rounded the corner of the hall to the living area, her hand trailing on the stone wall beside her, the sight before her causing her breath to catch in her throat.

Triss was standing in her kitchen, safe and still present in her home. She still wore her small clothes, the small shorts riding dangerously low, showing off a toned midriff as her shirt rode slightly higher. Her hair had been piled on her head in an adorably messy bun, the sunlight pouring through the window bathing her in a glowing golden light, like an otherworldly being brought to earth. Her back was to her, but she could see how she clutched her handless arm to her body, while the other worked a spatula over flame as she flipped some hen eggs over the pan.

"Triss?" she asked incredulously, ignoring the throb in her abdomen upon seeing the woman. She told herself it was just relief; very strong, very distracting relief.

Her shoulders flinched as her name rang through the air, startling her. But the smile she was rewarded with when she turned had been worth it. Triss was _beaming_ , her eyes crinkling as she noticed Yennefer watching her, and she couldn't help the upturn of her own lips upon seeing it.

" _Oh_! Yenna, I'm sorry," she gasped breathlessly, her cornflower blue eyes shining in the natural light. She gestured to the pan and plates, "I…I was trying to make you breakfast, though I didn't anticipate it being so difficult with one arm."

It didn't escape her that the smile left Triss' eyes as she spoke, but she smiled back at her regardless, approaching her slowly as Triss chewed her lip. Her face reddened as Yennefer leaned over her, inspecting her work.

"You know," Yennefer said softly, "when you said you were going to try, I didn't expect all of _this_. Are you sure you're feeling well enough to be up and about?"

Yennefer couldn't help but feel that Triss was pushing herself for her sake. Guilt nagged at her gut, unwilling for her to think she needed to do these things just for her benefit.

Triss smiled shyly, averting her eyes and pretending to be busy with the eggs, "I think I've been ready for some time now, physically, the pain has lessened greatly thanks to you. I guess it's my own head holding me back from ever doing better…I'm just struggling to find the purpose in it all." She sighed as Yennefer held out a plate for her to place the eggs and the ham, "but I know that I'll never find that purpose if I don't take the first step to bettering myself."

"Thank you," Yennefer said with a small smile as Triss finished plating, "for this, and for taking that first step. I only want the best for you, you know that right?"

She was rewarded with another smile, "I know."

As they made their way to the dining table, Yennefer's smile faded as she noticed Triss' gait, the way she stepped gingerly on her bad knee.

"You're limping," she pointed out.

"There is minor pain, stiffness," Triss said, grimacing as she lowered herself in the chair, "believe me, it's far better than what it was."

Yennefer chewed thoughtfully, "I'll go to the market after I ready myself and get something to help you."

Triss waggled her eyebrows, her eyes twinkling with amusement, "like a cane?"

She was glad Triss was taking it with good humor, "I'll make sure it's elegant. I'll also require your measurements, while I'm at it. Winter is upon us, and it wouldn't do well for your health to have you walking around in small clothes."

Triss blushed and suddenly looked uncomfortable, it had Yennefer wracking her brain wondering what she could have possibly said to earn such a reaction.

"Yenna, I don't…I don't have any coin to pay you," she said sadly, looking very much ashamed with herself for her situation. But of course she hadn't any coin; all of her belongings were on her ship, but most likely pillaged by the witch hunters that boarded. Of course, Yennefer was happy to provide the woman with the things she needed, coin was of no issue, but she knew how Triss must have felt to have someone purchasing her belongings for her. As sorceresses, they were quite renown for being independent, so it must be uncomfortable to be on the other side of that.

"Triss," Yennefer said in a mock warning voice, "I want to do this for you. I won't hear anything more on the matter. If you feel such a need to repay me, we can figure it all out once you're better, but please know this is a gift that needs no reciprocation."

"I will think of something," Triss said knowingly, and Yennefer couldn't help but feel there was a double entendre to her statement. She felt her face heat up as she dabbed at her lips with her napkin.

"This was fantastic, it's been awhile since I've eaten a properly cooked meal. Thank you," she said genuinely, "I'm going to go get ready and I'll go to the market. While I'm gone feel free to use the tub, I'll fill it for you. Then perhaps we go outside, I can lend you some of my clothes."

Triss chewed her lip, "I'm not sure I'm ready to go out in public…"

"Not in public," Yennefer said quickly, "I have a garden on the roof, I can help you up there. It will do well to get some fresh air."

The warm smile was back on her lips, "I'd like that."

Yennefer did the dishes, since Triss was kind enough to cook for her. She couldn't remember if someone had ever done so for her before, Geralt certainly hadn't. It put a warm, fuzzy feeling in her chest. She directed the woman to her bookshelf, so she had something to occupy her until Yennefer was back.

She went down to the market once she was bathed, dressed, and her makeup done for the day. She found what she was looking for quickly, Ailbert's wife had a selection of walking canes to show her. She decided on an ebony one with silver markings. After that, she went to Chrysis, the tailor, giving her Triss' measurements to make her some clothes. She asked for the blues and greens she knew Triss loved, along with some warmer versions for the upcoming winter. Within a few days time, they should be ready.

When she returned she found Triss still in the tub, her face turning a beautiful shade of scarlet when she entered the room. She moved to cover herself but Yennefer was already behind her, pulling the stool up. It's not as though she hadn't seen Triss already, many times now, but perhaps the shift in the air between them made it take on a whole new meaning now.

Yennefer ignored that too.

"May I see you arm?" she asked gently, and without looking Triss held the stump up for her to see. She took it gingerly in her hands, running her fingers gently over the new skin, and Triss shivered under her touch. It was completely healed over, magnificently she may add if she was boasting, the new skin pink and shiny in the light. It was even, too, the extremity much smoother than most amputations she had seen in her lifetime. She squinted, noting the new skin was beginning to dry out. In order to keep it strong, she would have to apply some moisturizer.

"Keep it here," she said, as she rested her elbow on the edge of the tub. She moved to the chest where she had placed all of her glass vials and jars and began to rummage around. Finding the small jar she was looking for, filled with the white cream, she went back to her place at the stool.

She took a generous amount in her fingers and rubbed her hands together. Taking the limb, she placed her hands carefully at the end and began to rub it in.

Triss gasped at the cool contact, "wh-what are you doing?" she asked with a slight panic.

"Moisturizing you," Yennefer said flippantly, "to keep the skin strong."

She massaged the cream into the skin, rubbing her hands up the length of her arm and back again, focusing most of her attention on the end of the stump. Triss melted slightly, her breath coming out in a small gasp.

"That feels…good," she said breathlessly, "strange, but…it's nice…sensitive…"

Her voice came out more sensually than it should have, and Yennefer couldn't help but wonder just how good it actually felt. She had to admit, her curiousity was peaking, and she continued her ministrations to draw out every small sound of pleasure that came from the other woman. It was obvious between them, that Triss could easily be doing this herself, that it was completely unnecessary for Yennefer to do it for her, but neither said anything on the matter.

It was intimate, the way Yennefer caressed her injury with such devotion, as though worshipping her. Her face heated as a lump settled in her throat and she removed her hands, hastily putting the jar back on the lid.

"That…that should be good enough, for now," Yennefer said, her voice sounding strange to her.

"Thank you," Triss replied, her gaze not meeting her own.

She placed the jar back in the chest, and opted to give Triss some privacy. She searched her wardrobe for something warmer, and placed the clothes on the bed.

"Is it wrong for me to be looking forward to seeing you in black?" she said with amusement.

She heard the laughter in Triss' voice, "I doubt I can pull it off as well as you, but I'll try."

"If you need any, uhm, assistance, just give me a shout," Yennefer said as she left the room.

Triss had been in there awhile. Yennefer waited for her to call for her, but she figured Triss' pride was not allowing her to do so. She approached the door slowly, giving it a light knock.

"Triss? Do you need help?"

There was a muffler response on the other side, " _uhhhmmm…."_

Yennefer sighed, "Triss, it's alright. Let me help you."

" _O-Okay…"_

She entered and found Triss looking very much ashamed with herself, her face in a full blush as she sat on the stool. She had been trying to get the pants around her waist, but with only one hand to assist her it proved to be difficult. She hadn't even begun with the shirt, and Yennefer felt bad that she had left her to her own devices.

She didn't laugh, nor smile, as she went to help her. Triss refused to look, her face burning as Yennefer pulled on her elbows.

"Stand up," she said softly, and Triss complied, allowing Yennefer to crouch to grab the riding pants by the waist and pull them up over her hips. She stood close as she tied off the lace in the front, her hands dangerously close to Triss' nether regions, and she hoped the other woman didn't notice how they trembled.

Wordlessly, she pulled the shirt over her head, and deftly tied the black gambeson together. She couldn't resist putting her hands on Triss' shoulders when she was finished, admiring her work.

"You look beautiful," she said earnestly, surprising herself by the softness of her voice.

Triss' face turned impossibly redder, and she said nothing, but the upturn of her lips was all Yennefer needed to know to know her compliment had registered.

She even tied Triss hair up for her, in her signature twin buns she was accustomed to. It was amazing what a bath and proper clothes could fix, she looked more like herself than she had since her arrival.

 _Beautiful_.

"Come," Yennefer said as she passed Triss her cane, which she took gratefully, "let us go to the garden before the snow starts."

She had a small staircase through a door in her kitchen which led to the roof. She allowed Triss to go first, so she could secure her hand on her waist as she gingerly helped her up the steps. The work was worth the reward, as Triss couldn't contain her gasp as they emerged on the roof.

A light dusting of snow had painted everything in a brilliant sheet of white; in the center, was her large stone fountain, though it was now off due to the winter. Most of her plants had retreated back to the earth, to emerge once again with the new spring. But it was beautiful, nonetheless, and she led them to a stone bench sat at the edge of the railing, overlooking the city of Vengerberg.

"Yenna, it's _beautiful_ ," she awed as she looked over the expanse of the city, marvelling in the bustling life that pulsed through the streets, "thank you for bringing me here. It's nice to be outside again."

Yennefer hummed in agreement as her eyes went to the sky; small flurries were drifting down, floating through the air gently. In the horizon the sky was dark, a looming storm threatening to come in.

"Are the winters bad in Vengerberg?"

Triss' voice shook her from her thoughts, "they can be. It might be best, if you stay here for the duration…"

Triss bumped her with her shoulder, "if you're asking me if I will stay with you, then yes, I will."

Yennefer smiled to herself, blushing as Triss read her so well. She wanted to broach another subject, though she knew she would have to tread lightly.

"We can…we can practice your magic up here as well, when you're ready."

The shift in the air was palpable, and she hated how Triss' shoulders slumped at her words, "that's the hardest part about all of this. That my magic will never be what it used to be, and I'll be rendered useless."

Yennefer turned to her, "you'll never be useless, Triss, you and I both know that more miraculous things have happened. It doesn't hurt to try," she tried, and her hands went to the clasp of her gambeson. She opened it enough to slide Triss' arm out of her sleeve, exposing it to the chilled air. She placed her hands at the end of the extremity.

"Try and channel your magic," she said as she gripped the stump of her arm.

"Yenna…"

"Just try to imagine it. Don't be disappointed if nothing happens, that's why we're trying. It won't be overnight."

Triss looked very unsure of herself, but complied to the request regardless, and she focused her eyes to the handless stump, her face twisted in determination.

For a moment, it was quiet, and nothing happened. Yennefer gripped her a little tighter, expressing that she did not want her to relent just yet.

And then, _something_ happened. She could feel her hands begin to tingle, the unmistakable buzz of chaos was undoubtedly emulating from the extremity.

"Triss," she hushed, "there's something there. Your magic, I can…I can feel it!"

It was a warmth, and without warning flames crackled in her hands from the stump, causing her to jump away. It was just a small flame, gone in a second and only the size of a match, but it was _there._

" _Gods!_ " Triss delighted, beaming, "I can't believe it!"

Yennefer had an equally excitable grin on her face, "this is _amazing_! This is so much more than I had expected. It will need work…and I don't want to be too optimistic now, but it's more than a start. Triss, you clearly have some semblance of magical ability still able to direct itself through the limb. With practice, who knows?"

Triss placed a hand over her mouth, as if to hide her growing smile. But Yennefer didn't want her to hide it, and she was already thinking of ways to make that smile come back again and again, and her thoughts inevitably wandered to that black oak box she still had sitting on her shelf downstairs.

She had been waiting for a time to gift it to Triss, constantly worrying over what her reaction might be. But she quickly realized there may never be a "right" time, but with this newfound revelation that Triss' magic did in fact still exist in the injured arm, she was spurred on with new confidence that this might be just what the other woman needed.

"I have something for you," Yennefer said slowly, watching Triss' reaction as her brows furrowed in confusion, "let's go downstairs."

The chill in the air was worsening anyway, and the wind was beginning to pick up. She was certain a bad snow storm was coming, and it might be best to stay inside for the time being.

Triss said nothing as she followed, her face still twisted in thought as she helped her down the stairs. Leading them to the living area, she sat her down on the sofa and quickly got the fire going. With the room now cozy, and the sky darkening outside, she couldn't help but feel the romantic note in the atmosphere.

She went to the shelf, and with trembling hands she removed the oak box, cradling it gently in her arms as she made to sit next to Triss. Normally she might feel silly, but this time her nerves were justified in her mind. Either Triss would take great offense, perhaps without Yennefer even knowing, or it could be the best decision for her.

She would soon know.

Triss smiled warmly at her, gesturing to the box, "first clothes, now a gift? If I didn't know any better I'd say you're spoiling me."

Yennefer tried to force a smile, but the gravity of the situation weighed down on her like stone. Triss noticed this and her own grin faltered, instead her eyes filled with a quiet concern.

"I…I had something made for you," she said lamely, unsure of how to actually reveal the glove to her, "I understand that it could never replace what you've lost, but I thought _maybe_ it could help, even just a bit. But I don't want you to take offense, I did it with your best interests at heart."

A warmth spread on her thigh and she glanced down to see Triss hand on her thigh. She forced her eyes to meet her gaze, and found only patience and understanding there.

"I know you did, it's alright," she whispered reassuringly, her thumb sweeping across the fabric of her pants, the motion distracting. She braced herself as she tipped the lid open in her lap, and it took all of her willpower to force her gaze to Triss', to wait for her reaction.

It was a slow process, the range of emotions that reflected on Triss face as she behold the item before her. At first her eyes widened slightly; her mouth hung open, though not a word was spoken through them, and Yennefer wondered if Triss could hear her heart thudding in her chest.

Then the shock melted away, and gave way to a mixed look of confusion and…well… _overwhelmed_. Her brows knitted together as the tears welled in her eyes, her good hand coming to clasp her mouth just as a sob threatened to escape. On instinct, she reached for the gauntlet with an arm that had no hand, before drawing back as though burned by the realization.

"Yenna…" she cried softly, her voice muffled through her hand.

Yennefer was still unsure of Triss' emotions, there was such an array of them, so she gingerly asked while she gestured to her arm, "may I?"

Triss nodded and squeezed her eyes shut, her breath coming out in shuddering gasp as she desperately tried to control her emotions but she couldn't bear the sight. Yennefer could only assume by her affirmation to put it on her that these could be tears of happiness, just overwhelmingly so.

She removed it carefully from the box, and stretching the links just like Ailbert had shown her, she slid it up the delicate skin of her arm, eliciting a choked gasp from the red head.

It was a sight to behold; from where she was sitting, it fit _perfectly_ , the white steel glittering in the light of the fire, it looked fiercely beautiful as did its wearer. Triss had finally forced her eyes open, though with great difficulty, for when she laid eyes upon it, her soft cries took her body again. She clutched the hand to herself, as though cherishing as her finest possession. The act both warmed and saddened Yennefer.

"Y-Yen," she gasped out, "oh _Yen_ , y-you did this for m-me?"

Yennefer's heart soared with the confirmation that Triss in fact adored her gesture, "I must credit Ailbert for the talent, but yes, I did this for you."

She sniffed, finally able to pull the trembling limb from her body to inspect it further. She ran her fingers over the delicate engravings, her tears now falling silently.

"It's almost like I have one," she muttered wistfully, "just to have s-something there again. Words can't even begin to describe it's beauty…"

She raised her hands tentatively to Yennefer's face, coming to cup her cheeks. The steel was cool, but not unwelcomingly so on her skin, and she locked eyes with the sorceress in front of her.

"Thank you, Yenna," she whispered tearfully, "you have no idea how much this means to me…but…-"

Her eyes dropped to her lips, and Yennefer's heart began to race wildly again from it's slumber. She was leaning closer to her, she could practically count the tear drops that flecked her lashes, the freckles that dotted her skin under a light blush. Then there was the breath, ghosting on her lips, familiar and oh so inviting, she found herself unable and unwilling to turn away.

_"-…maybe I can show you…"_

Her breath hitched, her hands already moving to meet Triss' waist, desire throttling her abdomen-

_KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!_

_Fuck!_

The intruding sound caused them both to jump, the moment between them ruined. Yennefer found herself sour with disappointment, unable to deny she wanted it to happen again.

She stopped.

She wanted it to happen _again_.

No, this was good that someone came knocking. Even if it was Philippa, she didn't care. She couldn't allow these silly infatuations fester into anything more. Triss Merigold burned her once, there was nothing to say she wouldn't do it again. She couldn't take that risk in giving someone that much power over her, not a second time. It didn't help that Triss had initiated it this time, obviously due to the none too subtle hints Yennefer had been giving her. She only had herself to blame.

"S-sorry," she said lamely to Triss, whose face was scarlet with what must be embarrassment. Yennefer tried to let the image burn in her mind as she went to the door and wrenched it open.

Ashen hair.

Covered in a layer of snow.

But her green eyes were _smiling_.

She was engulfed in a tight embrace, and she nearly began to cry quite embarrassingly at the sight of her daughter at her threshold, but she managed to control herself.

" _Ciri!"_ she gasped, "you-youre here! I can't believe you're here!"

"Yennefer," she said warmly, her voice filled with mirth. She loosened her embrace, holding Yennefer at shoulder length to look happily in her eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, when her gaze shot behind her, and Yennefer realized she had nearly forgotten Triss was in the room.

" _Triss?!"_


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Wednesday! You all may have noticed I have added additional tags, I think I have a good idea where I want this story to go. Safe to say, we got plenty left!

For a moment nobody moved, Ciri's eyes were wide as they darted between where Yennefer stood and where Triss was seated. She couldn't be sure if Ciri had noticed her hand or not, as she was still wearing the gauntlet. It occurred to her that she would most likely be shocked by Triss' mere presence in her home, considering how they left things.

"What are you doing here?" Ciri exclaimed, her voice confused but full of excitement. Before Yennefer could stop her, she was already bounding through the doorway and across the room to wrap Triss in an embrace.

The red head hesitantly hugged her back, though over Ciri's shoulder she was shooting an alarmed look in Yennefer's direction. She could do nothing but throw her hands up in a loss, her mind racing as Ciri pulled back from Triss' arms.

"What's this?" she said immediately, gesturing to the glove on Triss' arm, and Yennefer cursed her curious witcher instincts. She shouldn't be surprised that nothing could get past her.

"Ciri," she started as she made her way to where the girls sat, "something has happened-"

"-it's alright," Triss' resolute voice cut through the air, "I can tell her."

Her face was one of resolve as she visibly steeled herself before Yennefer's eyes, though she looked more ready than she had seen her previously. She realized that this was the first time she would hear her side of the story spoken clearly, and she found herself wanting to listen as well.

"Tell me what?: Ciri demanded, ever impatient as she was. The concern on her face was growing, and her attention snapped to Triss. "I _just_ walked through the door, I mean-" she gestured wildly between the two women, "-what the hell is going on?!"

Yennefer could feel the tension thickening the air, and opted to get something to relax the atmosphere slightly. She figured both women would appreciate it as she went to the kitchen and poured three rather large glasses of wine.

Ciri took the glass offered absentmindedly, while Triss murmured a thank you and drank appreciatively from the cup. She gave a final, apologetic look towards the both of them before she began.

"After Skellige," she started quietly, "I began my voyage back to Kovir, to take my position as the King's advisor…only…I never actually made it there."

She paused to take another generous gulp of wine, and Ciri looked on puzzled. "Witch hunters attacked the ship. I don't remember much other than them storming my room with dimeritium bombs. When I awoke, I was in a cell in Deireadh prison."

"Oh my Gods," Ciri whispered as a dangerous look came into her eyes, a hand coming to clasp her mouth. This was the part where the story got hard; Yennefer could see it in the way Triss' jaw flexed and her throat bobbed, as though nearly gagging on the words that came next. She wanted to place a comforting hand on her thigh, she almost did, before remembering Ciri's presence.

"I remember the guards saying that Radovid would come see me soon, though I'm not sure if he ever did. After a couple of weeks of being nearly starved, though relatively left alone, a group of them came to my cell. I just remember trying to cover my head as they began to kick me and hit me with their clubs, but it wasn't long before I was unconscious.."

Ciri's eyes were blazing now, and if Yennefer knew her daughter at all she was near ready to jump to her feet. The young girl was bursting at the seams with passion, but she was still lacking the control needed to express herself properly. She knew Ciri wasn't going to take this news well, but what surprised her was how her own anger began to boil in her tightened stomach while she listened to Triss' recount of her capture. She had spent so much time being worried for her health, tending to her injuries and ensuring she made it through each night, she hadn't had the time to properly address or process the vengeful rage that came with it.

"I remember the worst pain of my life," Triss said bluntly, "then, nothing at all."

Ciri looked to her then, and her heart seized at the fear evident in her daughters eyes. She moved to sit next to her on the couch, wrapping a comforting arm around the young woman's shoulders. Ciri did not tremble in her grip, though she was tensed and on edge.

Triss sighed, staring at her wine in feigned interest. "I suppose the next part might be better told from Yennefer's perspective." Her gaze went to Yennefer then, and she could see that this was the part where Triss did not wish to go further. That she tried, but considering she couldn't even remember the frightening event herself, Yennefer could see why she wouldn't want to speak on it. All she knew was what Yennefer had told her, and Yennefer only knew by piecing together what she had found that night.

Perhaps it was better that way.

The truth may be far uglier than either of them could imagine.

She was suddenly grateful for her own wine, and after draining nearly half of it she cleared her throat painfully, "I was closing my shop, when Philippa came to my door. I had figured she had come to try and make some kind of deal with me regarding the lodge, but instead she asked me to help her break Margarita and Sheala out of prison."

"Wait, Margarita and Sheala too?!"

"Unfortunately, yes. Though…Sheala didn't make it. Margarita went with Philippa." There was a moment of silence as her words sunk in. Triss' eyes were pained, as this was her first hearing of Sheala's passing, while Ciri just looked increasingly in disbelief.

"We didn't expect to find Triss there," Yennefer trudged on through the painful memory, "and when we did, she was near death by that point. We brought her here, and we couldn't be sure she would make it through the night." She braced herself for her daughter's inevitably harsh reaction, "they…she was wounded. Her hand…well…she no longer has one."

She wasn't sure if she could soften the blow any more if she tried. She purposely left out the sexual assault, even though Triss had probably expected her to say it. But Yennefer had done so for a couple of reasons; first being, something like this was extremely private and personal. While she could not hide the fact that she had no hand, she had the choice whether or not she wanted to speak on what happened to her. She wanted Triss to still have that choice, even Yennefer only found out because she went looking. The second reason was, well, Ciri.

She couldn't dwell on it, for Ciri was already springing from her arms.

 _"Fuck!"_ Ciri said as she ran a hand furiously through her hair, "FUCK!-Triss?" she turned to her then, her hands brought to her mouth in terror, her eyes tearful but full of murderous rage. " _Gods_ , Triss, I-" she reached for her as her voice trembled, though her anger overpowered her urge to comfort and she whirled around to face Yennefer instead.

"Well?! What's the plan, we're going to kill the bastard, right?" Ciri said angrily, her fists balled at her sides.

"Of course we are," Yennefer snapped rather harshly without thinking. She truly hadn't thought about it much, being far too preoccupied with keeping Triss alive for it to cross her mind. But now that the worst of it was over, she now had no doubts in her mind about what she wanted to do. She didn't even need to consult Triss on the matter; Radovid was going to die, one way or another.

"We just need to focus on Triss' recovery for now," Yennefer said slowly, "besides, we're talking about regicide, we're going to need an airtight plan first."

CIri's face was almost petulant, but she didn't protest further. Instead she went to kneel in front of Triss, taking her good hand into her own, "I promise we'll make him suffer," she said tearfully, "along with anyone who tries to stop us. Does it hurt?"

Triss gave her a watery smile, admiring the exquisite armor she still wore, "not so much anymore, thanks to Yen. She's been so good to me, I…I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her."

Their eyes met for a brief moment when Triss had finished speaking, and the electricity was undeniable in the air. Heat bloomed in her chest at the compliments, and it was reassuring to know she had been doing something right.

Ciri turned in her squat, and cocked an eyebrow at Yennefer, "well it's good to see you two getting along, I gotta admit I wouldn't have expected it."

"Grievous injuries will do that to a person," Yennefer drawled, "there are far more important matters that require our attention."

Triss audibly sighed as she raised her now empty glass, giving a weak smirk to Yennefer as she filled it up for her, "I don't want to dwell too much on my current situation. Tell us what brings you here, Ciri?"

Ciri smiled as though she had forgotten the weight of the conversation. That was like her, to traverse from one topic to the next, letting any and all burdens roll off her shoulders. Perhaps it was her youth, and the undying hope that everything would be alright that came with it. Yennefer found herself envious of such feelings.

"I took a contract not far from here for a Leshen near the base of the mountain. Surprising, since the winter is so near, but this one was _ancient_. I missed you, dreadfully," she said honestly to Yennefer, who smiled warmly in turn, "there was no way I could come so close to Vengerberg and not see you. The storm slowed me down some, it's actually lucky I got here when I did."

"Well you know you're free to stay as long as you need," Yennefer said eagerly, enjoying the idea of having a third party present. Ciri would certainly do nothing if not lift Triss' spirits, and she would be the perfect wedge that they desperately needed between them. As long as Ciri was in the room, these "moments" of theirs would cease, and hopefully become habit in doing so.

There was nothing she could do about nightfall though, unless she told Triss she no longer wanted to share a bed with her. Perhaps the direct route would be the best route, but she didn't have the heart to do that to her.

To herself.

As though reading her mind, Triss stood before Ciri could respond and went to reach for her cane. Yennefer was already there, assisting her without thinking twice.

"It's been awhile since I've drank, I fear the wines gone to my head," she said sheepishly, "I hope you both don't mind if I go to bed?"

"Not at all," Yennefer said quietly, "Do you…?"

"Please," she said, turning her face away shyly.

"I'll be right back," she said over her shoulder to Ciri.

"Take your time," she replied, "goodnight, Triss, I'll see you in the morning."

She followed Triss slowly down the hall, her stomach in knots with a mixture of excitement and nervousness at the prospect of them being alone again, after the very near encounter in the living area. She told herself she was here to help Triss, but the thought of undressing her was beginning to take on a new meaning beyond simple assistance.

She wiped the thought clear from her mind as she shut the door behind them. She slid the gauntlet from her arm first, placing it gently on the dresser, before helping her out of her clothes. Each lace was tugged mechanically, as though she worried her movements might be misconstrued, but really, she no longer trusted her own hands around the woman.

She tried desperately to ignore the scent of her when she leaned in close to remove what was left of her top, revealing her chest to the air. How her skin felt when she grazed her rib cage when she pulled the shift over her head, her body reacting in subtle ways to her touch. Yennefer was a strong woman, stronger than most, in body, mind and soul. But whenever she looked at Triss it was as though all of her sense was loss, and she found herself throwing caution to the wind, with no care for any possible repercussions of her actions.

She still couldn't pinpoint when the dynamic between them shifted, but it had undoubtedly spiraled further from her control.

She guided Triss to the bed and laid her down, and sat herself on the edge.

"Thank you," Triss said softly, her eyes twinkling with affection, "you must be happy to see Ciri still in one piece."

"I am," she said truthfully, "I've missed her dearly."

"Go to her," Triss said with a smirk, nodding in the direction of the living room, "I'll be fine here."

"I'll do that," was what she said, but for some reason she remained seated, her mind lost in a scene of cornflower blue and familiar yet strange feelings. Selfishly she wanted a reason to stay just a moment longer. It wasn't that she didn't want to see her beloved daughter, but rather she didn't want to leave Triss' side, and before she couldn't fathom why, but oh she knew.

"I like having you here," she blurted out, the words surprising both her and Triss. She had this indescribable need to convey to her that she wasn't a burden. That mending their relationship meant something to her, that _she_ meant something to her. "I'm relieved you and I are able to do this…I've…I've missed you, as well."

She heard Triss' breathe catch as she hung on every one of her words, the blush on her face evident, her eyes almost dreamy. Triss always had the most wonderful eyes, some may disagree and say none could rival the violet hue of her own, but she would beg to differ. Triss' eyes were the kind you got lost in for ages, until time was no longer relevant.

"Yenna…" she whispered, then chewed her lip. She looked very much like she had something to say, something important, and Yennefer could almost laugh at how just not long ago she was praying for a way out, for a buffer zone between them, for the intrusive feelings to vanish. But now, she found herself wishing for the very opposite. For Triss to say what she wanted to hear in this moment, to speak whatever truth was on her mind, to tell Yennefer what was just behind those lips begging to be released, her heart beginning to palpitate at the mere prospect of it.

"Yes?" she breathed, her voice strange and unlike her own, and she waited with a heartbeat in her ears.

Her lips parted, an intake of breath cutting through the air, the words about to fill her ears and she wasn't sure if she was more nervous or enthralled. She couldn't even be sure of what she was about to say, but somehow she just knew-

-before the wall between them was put back up, in the form of a shy smile and averted gaze, the words never coming at all.

"I've missed you too," she rushed out her meek save for what she really wanted to say. Yennefer knew it wasn't what she originally planned. That whatever she had on her mind just a few short seconds ago, was possibly the most important thing that could be said between them at this point. "thank you for letting me into your home and…back into your life, even if I've done nothing to earn it."

Yennefer smiled and tried to quell the strange mixture of relief and disappointment in her gut. "You don't have to _earn_ it, I just want to move forward with you, and be honest this time. I don't want us to hurt each other anymore."

Her smile was sad, almost devastatingly so, before disappearing completely as she stared off into the light of the fire, as though lost in deep thought.

"Me either," was all she said, but Yennefer couldn't help but feel like she was referring to something else.

She tried to brush off the sudden feeling of unease as she pulled the blankets to her chin. "I'll join you soon, I'm rather tired myself."

Triss' face changed back into one of warmth. "Okay," she replied softly, watching as she reluctantly pulled away from the bed and out of the room. She wondered just how reluctant she actually looked.

The trip back down the hall was one accompanied by the emotional turmoil she carried. It must reflect on her face, for Ciri stood when she re-emerged into the living area, her bottom lip pulling into a pout as her brows furrowed in her direction.

She opened her arms.

And Yennefer gladly went to them, the embrace surprising her by how it effectively began to pull her emotions to the surface, and before she knew it her eyes were glazing over with tears tired of building up.

"Oh Yen," she soothed, her gloved hands coming to stroke her raven hair, "I can't believe this, it must be _so_ hard on you."

Yennefer turned abruptly from the embrace now, unwilling to cry in front of her daughter, unwilling to cry at _all_. "It's fine-I'm fine," she rushed out as she turned her back to her, quickly wiping her unshed tears away, "I'm just tired, Ciri. It has been a long week of late nights spent healing her the best that I can, yet sometimes I feel like I'm not doing _enough_. I know how much pain she's in and I want to take it from her, but maybe that's beyond my ability. And dealing with our… _past_ …" she stopped there for a moment, thinking of all the strange happenings between her and Triss as of late. She already knew there was no way she was going to tell Ciri about this, at least not right now. She and Triss hadn't even addressed it themselves, and Yennefer knew she was foolish to think they never would. No, she needed to work this out herself before she dragged her daughter into it too.

"Well, in any case, I guess I should thank you," Ciri said from behind her.

She turned, puzzled, "for what?"

Ciri shrugged, moving to sit back on the sofa, Yennefer joining her, "for taking her with you. She doesn't need Philippa sinking her claws into her right now…and Triss means a lot to me. I know it must've been difficult for you to make that decision."

"Actually, it wasn't," she said thoughtfully, "when I saw her lying there like that, I already knew what I had to do. She almost lost her _life_ , and the life she does have now is one she doesn't want. The choice to save her is easy, she is far more important than our past."

Ciri smiled warmly before throwing her arms around her shoulders and giving her a tight squeeze, "I always knew you were sweeter than you looked," she joked.

Yennefer rolled her eyes, "don't tell anyone. Do you have any belongings with you? You can take them to the spare bedroom, you must be exhausted-"

"Spare bedroom?" she said curiously, and Yennefer realized with a start how the situation must look, "you gave Triss your _bed?_ Wow Yen, I never knew you to be so…doting."

"I am not doting," she rebutted, though if she were being honest with herself she was definitely doting on Triss, "something…something happened, and I'm afraid to leave her by herself for now."

"By herself…" Ciri repeatedly slowly, before her eyes widened as a look of understanding dawned on her, "sh-she didn't?!"

"She did," Yennefer sighed, "she's not handling the reality of what happened to her very well at all, understandably of course. But…sometimes I am afraid that the Triss we know may never come back."

Ciri placed a comforting hand over her own, forcing her gaze to her, "she will come back to us," she said with determination, "I'm going to stay here, as long as you need me to, I can help the both of you with this."

As tempted as she was to take Ciri up on her offer, she knew there was other things she would need her to do. It had already crossed her mind when she first arrived, and while having Ciri here would make her life easier, it would be nowhere near as effective as the other task she had in mind.

"Thank you," she said softly, "but I cannot ask you to do that. There is something else I must ask of you instead."

Her hand tightened and she leaned closer, her green eyes wide, "anything, what do you need me to do?"

Her jaw flexed before she spoke, "we need to start thinking about what we're going to do about Radovid. Triss still needs time to recover, but in the meantime we need to start seeking assistance from those we can trust in order to formulate a plan. We can't do this alone."

Ciri nodded slowly as she mulled over her words, "I'll have to find Geralt."

Yennefer closed her eyes, the familiar pain beginning to pulse, but she knew this to be true. She had recovered from the knowledge that Geralt no longer loved her, but it didn't mean she was looking forward to the awkward encounter.

"Yes," she sighed, "and anyone else that can help us. Even Philippa, as much as I hate to say it, she has contacts within the city that could prove valuable. Not to mention she wants Radovid dead as much as we do."

"So Geralt, Philippa, maybe I can try and find Zoltan and Dandelion as well. It will take me some time to track them down, I have no idea where Philippa is, and Geralt is all the way in Toussaint."

"I wouldn't worry too much about Philippa," Yennefer drawled, "I'm sure she will be appearing back on my doorstep before long. Get word to Geralt first, he can assist you in finding the others. But, don't go rushing off now. Stay a few days, at least?"

Ciri beamed at her, before standing and finally shrugging off her heavy cloak, "of course I will, I didn't come all this way to not spend any time with you. And having Triss here is a bonus, maybe my presence will cheer her up some," she said confidently, raising her eyebrows.

Yennefer chuckled, "I'm sure it will. Actually, I was hoping to get Triss to start practicing with her magic again, if she's ready. Maybe that's something you can help with her as well?"

Her face was incredulous, "you mean…the limb is still able to channel magic?"

"Profoundly, yes," Yennefer said, unable to hide her delight, "and that was before she wore the gauntlet. She hasn't had a chance to try with that just yet, but it's enchanted, so it couldn't hurt."

"Was that your doing as well?"

Yennefer felt a blush rise and she turned and pretended to be interested in washing their three goblets. "She needed something, she was so upset with how she looked…I thought it would help her."

"No, that's really good of you to do," Ciri said quickly, "smart, too. It may amplify what she is already projecting without the aid of the glove. I'm curious to see what we can do," she remarked with enthusiasm, a lopsided grin plastered on her face.

"I am too," she admitted, optimistic for the coming days. It was wonderful to see Ciri again, and she felt more settled knowing they would soon have a plan in place for the future. Better still, Ciri's presence might coax Triss out of her shell a little further, and maybe Yennefer could even open her shop back, at least at reduced hours. It would probably be good for Triss to have someone to talk to other than Yennefer. She couldn't take it as a jab to herself, but there were things that Triss could not speak freely with Yennefer, not like she could Ciri, this all due to their awkward past. Maybe talking with her will aid her recovery as well, though she couldn't help but wonder what she might say.

"I'll make us all breakfast in the morning!" Ciri exclaimed in a bubbly manner; Yennefer knew there was no point in insisting that she was the guest and that cooking would not be necessary, the girl would do what she pleased anyway.

"That sounds nice," she responded instead, "maybe you and Triss can go out to the garden afterwards and I can see some of my clients. With some luck, we might just get her to venture out into town."

"I'm sure we will. I know it seems out of reach now, but we will get to her, she'll be okay." Ciri sounded so confident in her words, Yennefer wished she could share the same sentiment. But she had to try and remain positive when Triss couldn't, and for now she would allow herself to believe Ciri.

"I hope you're right," she replied softly as her daughter wrapped her in another embrace. She sagged into it, the weight of the world bearing down upon her, her exhaustion reaching new lengths. Looking after Triss didn't bother her in the least, but she was looking forward to having some time to herself.

"Get some sleep, Yen," she whispered soothingly, "tomorrow will be a good day. You'll see."

She smiled warmly as she stepped from her arms, "I think you're right. I'll see you in the morning Ciri, sleep well."

She parted ways in the hall with the ashen hair woman, eager to get into bed and get to sleep. The thought of Triss warm body was almost too inviting, for she climbed into bed rather enthusiastically, her arms automatically wrapping around the red head and pulling her flush against her eliciting a giggle from the woman.

" _Hmm_ , did you miss me?" she chuckled groggily, and Yennefer felt her face heat up, further burying it into Triss' hair.

"Perhaps…" she said vaguely, though she could feel the corners of her lips tugging into a grin. Triss turned in her arms, boldly tucking her head under her chin, close enough for her lips to brush her collarbone, the feeling sending shivers down her spine.

"Any plans for tomorrow?" she breathed into her skin, and her arms tightened around her.

"Ciri's cooking us breakfast," she said sleepily, "and I may try to see some of my clients while you both catch up, I should probably open the shop before the people begin to riot," she jested.

"Mmm wouldn't want civil unrest in the city of Vengerberg," Triss joked back, and Yennefer felt her smile grow at the reciprocated banter.

But it was over as soon as it started, "I'm sorry I've kept you from your responsibilities," she said quietly into her chest.

"Don't apologize," Yennefer said as she stroked her soft red hair, "I like having you as a new responsibility."

She raked her nails down her back, enjoying how Triss arched into her as she did so, and she felt nails digging lightly into her own back.

" _Mph_ , feels good," Triss groaned, and Yennefer was thankful for Ciri's presence across the hall. The way things were going between them lately, she wasn't sure how much control she could continue to poorly exercise around the woman. But it didn't mean she couldn't pull her impossibly closer, a small but loud part of her wishing those lips would press into her clavicle.

"Goodnight, Yenna," Triss murmured softly, and what happened next made her breath catch deep in her chest. Softly, but unmistakeably, those lips _did_ press into her chest. The lightest of touches, but enough to make her abdomen clench pleasantly nonetheless.

She released a breath she had been holding, hoping Triss couldn't hear her wild heart in such close proximity.

"Goodnight," she breathed, elated.


	10. Chapter 10

She awoke to the aroma of frying eggs, toast, and seared meat for the second morning in a row. She smiled lazily to herself at the prospect of having breakfast cooked for her not once but twice, and she thought humorously that she should have guests more often. She couldn't recall the last time someone had done so for her, if ever.

"What are you so happy about?"

The words were light and musical, like a sweet summer breeze cast into her ear softly, the lips they belonged to so very near to her skin it made her flesh breakout in goosebumps. A jolting sensation ran through her stomach at the contact, and her hands involuntarily clenched at the blankets.

She hoped Triss didn't notice.

"Hmmm," she hummed contently, "I found I quite enjoy having breakfast made for me, I feel rather lucky."

She felt fingers run through her hair, grazing gently at her scalp, and she leaned into the pleasant touch. Triss too had grown bolder since Yennefer's lack of control she exuded a couple of days ago. Before that, Triss had to be convinced that it was alright to even look at her, let alone touch her.

And the new Yennefer didn't mind at all. Not anymore.

"I'll have to remember that," Triss replied sweetly, and an image of her coming into the kitchen on a late Sunday morning flashed in her mind. Triss would be there, standing at the flame and flipping eggs, wearing nothing but her loose fitting small clothes. She would turn at the sound of her footsteps, a gorgeous smile adorning her face, as she asked Yennefer if she would like coffee-

She rolled from her back and onto her side, now facing where her pleasant voice had been coming from and opened her eyes. Gods, they spent a lot of time having their faces dangerously close together. Triss smirked at her when their eyes met, continuing her ministrations on her raven locks.

"How did you sleep?" Yennefer asked softly.

"Like a baby."

"And your leg? How is the pain?"

"Nearly non existent. Very stiff, though."

"And your arm?"

"Itchy."

They chuckled together, and Yennefer reluctantly pushed herself from the bed, Triss hand falling to rest limply on the covers below. "I can heal it a bit for you, loosen it up. And I can moisturize your arm if you like."

"That would be nice," the red head said warmly, as she removed the covers from herself to give Yennefer access to her leg.

Thankfully she was in no pain, for it wasn't long before Ciri had sing songed down the hallway that breakfast was ready. She was shocked when she found the elaborate spread Ciri had laid out; a half dozen eggs, stacks of fresh toasted bread, with a towering plate of meat to match. She felt a pang of guilt that Ciri had done all of this herself, and she wondered just how long she had been up.

"Gods, Ciri, I'm sorry I should've-"

" _Ah ah ah!_ " she chided, waggling a finger in her direction, "I'm happy to do it. I know you Yennefer, you get so caught up you barely remember to feed yourself."

She couldn't help but roll her eyes at the girl as she seated herself while Triss tried to hide a smile. Together, they began to dig in to the feast Ciri had prepared, and Yennefer took a moment to enjoy how nice the scene before her was.

"So!" Ciri said with enthusiasm, nearly startling Triss half to death in the process, "Plans? Yen, you're really going to work on my first day here?"

Yennefer gave her a sheepish smile, "I just need to see the important ones. I promise I won't work all day."

"Well I hope not, but then again, it will give Triss and I time to wow you!"

She exchanged puzzled looks with Triss, before turning back to Ciri, "I'm sorry, _wow_ me?"

Ciri smiled knowingly over her coffee mug, her eyes flitting to Triss, "with her magic."

Yennefer could've audibly groaned at Ciri's lack of discretion, or sensitivity, for that matter. She knew she was trying to help, but as suspected Triss began to look slightly unsure of herself.

"Oh-I don't know," she said hurriedly as her eyes cast to her plate, "I'm not very good-I mean-It's not even anything, at this point…"

"Nonsense," Ciri said, waving a hand dismissively, "I think you're selling yourself short. You'll see, have some faith," she said with a wink.

"And we know faith can be hard to come by in these times," Yennefer said pointedly at Ciri, before turning her gaze to Triss, "but she's right, you're doing wonderfully, and no I'm not just saying that for your ego."

"Freya," Ciri giggled as she pointed her fork to her, "I didn't know Yennefer could compliment anything other than her own reflection!"

She found she rather enjoyed the quiet laugh elicited from Triss at the joke, even if it was at her own expense. She laughed with them, overjoyed to see her daughter again, and the joy it brought Triss was a major plus.

The rest of breakfast was spent listening to Ciri's remarkable stories of adventure on the Path, and Yennefer felt elated for the happiness her daughter had found. It wasn't long ago when all of their lives had been filled with such uncertainty, how Ciri's life almost ceased to exist at all. Not only did she save the world as they knew it, but she got the ending she deserved. Though she couldn't help but worry she would get mortally wounded by a crazed bruxa or some other beast.

When it came time to finish up, she aided Triss in clearing the dishes before helping to dress her for the day. She remained swift and chaste in her actions as to not arouse suspicion from Ciri, and she suddenly felt terrible for keeping this from her daughter. Not just from her, but from Triss, from herself.

But the fear still ached in her chest.

She was optimistic for the day, however. It would be a welcome distraction to focus on other things other than Triss. Perhaps it would be just what she needed to clear her head, and maybe come to some decisive action to her feelings.

All too happy to do the dishes, she bid farewell to the pair as they made their way up to the garden after peering outside to ensure the storm had stopped. They had quite a helping of snow overnight, enough to cover the world in a thick white blanket, but the skies remained clear today.

She took extra time to ready herself that morning; she had to look her best to face the public yet again today, to remind them all that Yennefer of Vengerberg was still here.

* * *

The first day was hectic; it didn't take long for word to spread throughout the city of her reopening, and soon there was a line of patrons curving around the block. Of course, she saw to the nobility first, including the likes of an elderly countess hellbent on reigniting the spark between her and her feeble husband, or the young lord accompanied by his manic father who was concerned his son seemed rather behind in where he should be regarding his pubescence. If Yennefer could bet, the poor boy simply didn't take interest in the company of woman, but she provided him a lustful potion nonetheless, and soon he would be sniffing skirts like a hound.

She truly hadn't meant to take all day, but the people kept pouring in, some in tears and begging for her aid, many of them desperate and lost in their way. She couldn't believe the amount of coin she received just in the morning alone, and she couldn't help but feel a little bad about being closed in the first place. Of course, she already knew how much the people relied on her, but the damage done by being closed just one week was impressive.

When late afternoon came she knew she couldn't deny her time with her daughter any longer, much to the displeased crowds chagrin. None dared to speak on it though, aside from collective groan, when she yanked the "open" sign from her window, and announced that she would reopen on the morrow.

She found the pair of the in the garden, in the snowy clearing. The wind whistled stronger up here, and she hugged her coat a little tighter to her body. She stopped to admire the view before her; Ciri was standing off to the side, her arms waving through the air in grandiose gestures, talking animatedly as she usually did. Triss stood in the clearing, looking otherworldly as her hair flowed freely in the wind, a different style than what she was used to. The red was a stark contrast on the white world around them, and her eyes couldn't help but be drawn to her.

"Yennefer!" Ciri called when she noticed her presence, prompting Triss to turn and reward her with a dazzling smile, "nice of you to finally show! You look hot today."

"I know, I know, I'm sorry. It was mad down there. As for my appearance, it's good to know I had the desired effect," she offered, her boots crunching in the snow as she approached. She felt Triss looking at her on her side, and she turned to catch her staring, and it filled her with a sense of pride that Triss was blatantly ogling her.

Ciri's grin widened as she approached, her eyes darting to Triss as she clapped her hands together, "well? You ready? Show her!" she said excitedly, practically bouncing.

Yennefer turned expectantly to Triss, to find her with a light blush as she looked at anything but her. It occurred to her that Triss was nervous to show her. She wondered if Triss saw her in a way similar to how she saw Philippa, as some authoritative figure she needed to seek approval from, needed to impress. But Yennefer would never impose such expectations on the woman, she needed her to know that.

"Show me," she urged in a gentle voice, the corner of her lips tugging.

Triss met her eyes then, deep blue orbs filled with hesitation, but a glimmer of hope. Slowly, she allowed herself to mimic Yennefer's smile, and she held out her gleaming metal arm, the palm facing upwards. With a sharp crack her was alight with a warm orange glow, dancing across her face from the fireball she now conjured in her palm. Not the small, hint of a flame she had witnessed yesterday, but a massive dancing ball of thick flames, as large as it had been before her accident.

As large as it had been before.

Her hands went to her forearm as her eyes became lost in the flame she produced. She found herself at a loss for words, even though she knew Triss was waiting patiently for a reaction. But she remained frozen for a moment, what felt like minutes, until she dragged her gaze upwards to meet the red heads.

"I'm _so_ proud of you," she whispered softy, earnestly, and she made a mental note to tell Triss more often just how proud she was, for the way her face lit up was beyond comparison to even the most beautiful of sunsets, and much to her horror, she found her vision blurring with tears.

"Oh Yen," she heard Ciri gasp from her side. It wasn't teasing in any way, more sympathetic, and she was sure that was worse. She blinked the tears away and dropped her hands, trying to silence the frustration towards her own self.

She put an apologetic smile on her face as she crossed her arms, "this is remarkable. Both of you, I don't know what you two got up to today, but color me impressed."

Ciri beamed, ignoring her brief moment of emotion much to Yennefer's relief, "it was all Triss, I assure you. She always had the capability, she just needs to hone her new way of doing it."

"Well," Yennefer said as she clasped her hands together, "let's celebrate, I'll cook."

The evening finished in laughter and wine, and best of all was when she was held by Triss' warmth once again.

The second day went much like the first; she made a conscious effort not to work as late as the day previously, and managed to meet with the women shortly after lunch. She even had a visit from Chrysis, who had been kind enough to bring by the clothes she had made for Triss. Ciri had the enthusiastic idea of Triss trying them on later, along with practicing one handed makeup and hair.

The thought of Triss presenting herself in such a way was enough to make her blood run hot, and she tried not to squirm in place and focus on Triss' practice, as she anticipated the coming evening.

Yennefer had offered to cook dinner once again, while the two of them had went to the spare room to fit her clothes. Yennefer figured Triss would like them, she knew her well enough to know the styles and colors she preferred. When she finished up a hearty meal of veal and potatoes and began to plate, she heard a high pitched whistle coming down the hall.

"Are you ready for this?" Ciri said as she emerged into view, her smile contagious as Yennefer leaned on the countertop. She made a grand gesture with her arms towards the hall, nearly bouncing with excitement, "may I present to you, the Triss Merigold we all know and love!"

She came into view from the hall then, her face contorted in adorable embarrassment as she rolled her eyes at Ciri, but Yennefer didn't really notice that.

She looked like a fever dream; her hair magma red, tied back into the perfect buns she was used to, save for the loose tendrils that framed her face. Her makeup done beautifully, her perfected eyebrows arched in discomfort under her gaze overtop of long, black eyelashes. Her enticing, cornflower blue eyes glanced to Yennefer for a brief but electric moment, before averting in embarrassment once more, the bottom of a set of heart shaped lips tucked into her teeth.

Her eyes scanned her body, the sapphire blue gambeson hugging her comely figure, the neckline clasping together in a high collar, as was her preference. Triss never wore anything with a plunging neckline due to her scars, and Yennefer felt a strange twinge of arousal when she saw her in one once again. She hadn't noticed before, but it left a certain air of mystery, even if she already knew what lie beneath.

She was suddenly aware of her lack of response, and she quickly shifted on her feet and averted her gaze for a moment. She would have to be extremely lucky if Ciri hadn't caught her staring.

But Triss _definitely_ noticed.

Their eyes met, and the ache grew. Not the one that thrummed in her abdomen, no, this time the one in her heart. She thought it was her job, to aid Triss in finding beauty in the world around her once again, but in this moment she realized she had been wrong. That it had been Triss, that allowed her to see such beauty. It had been in her luminous smile, no matter how rare they might be now. The way her eyes lit like sparks and her cheeks dimpled, and she wanted nothing more than to reciprocate the warmth Triss had placed unknowingly around her heart, the very one she was responsible for further hardening in the first place.

But the rational part of her brain had not completely malfunctioned; Triss may be beautiful, Triss may make her feel good now, but she also broke her heart once before. The memory came to mind sharp and unwelcome, ruining the fantasy she was trying to lose herself in.

But she couldn't deny how she stole her breath away. Surely, she could remain guarded, and still appreciate her from afar, right?

She was foolish.

But the way Triss was looking back at her now, hushed the part of her brain that made sense, and Yennefer allowed herself to pretend in this moment that this woman never hurt her so.

"You…Y-You're…" she began lamely, unable to find the words. She heard Ciri snort and she cursed herself once again for being so blatantly obvious around the woman.

"I think it has the desired effect," she said smugly as she wiggled her eyebrows at Triss before slipping past Yennefer to take her plate. "This smells amazing, Yen!"

Yennefer's mouth still hadn't managed to catch up to her brain, a rare occurrence for the woman. She prided herself in being quick witted, and difficult to render speechless. But Triss seemed to be accomplishing that quite frequently since her arrival.

She approached her now, her eyes meeting Yennefer's briefly before she reached around her to grab a plate of her own, before she finally found her voice.

"You're beautiful. _So_ beautiful," she whispered as she leaned around her, causing the woman to falter slightly at the genuine tone in her words. For a moment, she swore she saw Triss' pupils dilate, her intake of breath sharp of surprise.

She recovered quickly, giving her a shy smile as she took her food, "thank you."

The urge to reach for her was paramount.

As if the night couldn't leave her feeling any more tense, Triss had retired early as she normally did after the days practice, and Ciri had her cornered in the kitchen as she washed up. She felt her eyes burning into the back of her, and she almost opened her mouth to speak when the ashen haired woman beat her to it.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" she inquired, her voice laced with amusement, and she braced herself for ruthless teasing.

"What?" she said flippantly, pretending to scrub something stubborn off of the pan.

"Gods, Yennefer, I'm not stupid."

She sighed, her jaw flexing, "why don't you just tell me what you're on about."

"I know you've tried to be present," Ciri said slowly, "but you've clearly been distracted. At first, I just assumed you were exhausted after everything that's happened, but…I think I know what it is."

"I am exhausted," Yennefer insisted, "less so, thanks to you."

"Yen," she warned, undeterred by her excuse, "is there something…y'know… _going on_ with you and Triss?"

Yennefer's laugh was harsh, sounding false to her own ears, "don't be ridicu-"

"Oh stop _mom_ , it's me," Ciri chuckled, clearly amused with her visible discomfort, "and to me, you're a shit liar."

Yennefer said nothing, gritting her jaw instead as finished the last of the dishes. She wasn't a shit liar, that much she knew, but she was shit at being inconspicuous.

"It's alright, you know," Ciri said, her voice softening to genuine concern. "You don't have to be embarrassed or...whatever it is."

She whirled around, her eyes unfairly hardened. She knew Ciri was just trying to help her, but the defenses flew up and she was helpless to stop it.

"It's not what you think it is," she said firmly, hoping Ciri would take the hint to shut down the conversation. Of course, such a thing could not be expected from the woman. She braced herself for rebuttal as she resumed putting away dishes.

" _Uhm_ , I think it is," she said matter-of-factly, "I saw how emotional you were yesterday, Yen. The only emotion I've ever seen you display towards her was nothing short of distaste. And then there's tonight, the way you looked at her, the way you've been _looking_ at her, there's… _tenderness_ that certainly wasn't there before."

Yennefer remained in stubborn silence, but Ciri was persistent.

"If you both haven't done anything already-"

"We haven't done anything."

"-Then you probably should, because there's some serious sexual tension between you."

Yennefer stopped then and shot her a tired look.

"She feels the same, you know," Ciri said slyly as she pretending to inspect her fingernails.

"Did she say something to you?" Yennefer blurted out, realizing far too late that she had implicated herself.

Ciri's smile grew, and Yennefer had to fight the urge to reach for the vodka again.

"You sure you haven't done anything?"

" _Ciri."_

Her smile changed to one of kindness rather than teasing, "she didn't say anything, but she talks about you constantly. She says really nice things about you, Yen, how you took care of her, saved her life, gave her the strength to keep going. You're her hero."

The words warmed her heart, but she found herself shaking her head. Ciri gave her a look of exasperation, throwing her hands up in an impatient gesture.

"What is so wrong about this? I don't get why you're so afraid to admit it."

"You don't understand," she said evenly, "I saved her life because I care about her, and I've come to find that I'm not opposed to us moving past everything and gaining our friendship back, but… to give her that kind of trust," her voice lowered to a bare whisper, shame filling her gut, "to give her this part of me, after she broke my heart the first time I…I can't."

Understanding dawned on Ciri as her jaw went slack, and she rubbed her chin thoughtfully, "Well…okay, fair point. What she did to you was what some would say, unforgivable. It was really _really_ shitty of her, to do that to you. I think she knows that," she glanced down towards the bedrooms, "and who knows of her reasons. Maybe there is none. Maybe it was just a really shit, really stupid lapse in judgment. But I know she regrets it, so much so she'd probably give her other hand to take it back, and I think after everything that's happened she would spend every waking moment trying to gain your trust again. I don't think she would hurt you."

Yennefer's palms pressed to her eyes as the migraine began to set in with her muddied thoughts, "I could never be sure of that."

"Isn't it worth taking the risk? Perhaps sometimes the unforgivable is only so because people give up instead of _trying_."

She mulled over her words, unsure of how to respond. Sure, sometimes the risk was worth the reward, but what about when it wasn't? When there was no reward, only irreparable damage and hurt feelings as a result of a failed attempt?

"What if this is all in my head?" Yennefer said quietly, her eyes growing distant, "this could all be a result of our current situation, the fact that I'm caring for her, maybe the rest isn't real?"

"Does it matter?" Ciri groaned, clearly frustrated with Yennefer's defiance, "the fact remains, this is where you both are now. Don't you think you owe it to each other to just talk about it? Honestly, the way you two were before, it probably would've never got so bad had you just communicated with one another!"

She felt terribly foolish, knowing everything Ciri was saying was true. Even when Triss had followed her to Novigrad to find Philippa, it was strictly business. They were cold to each other, more so Yennefer. She had made herself unapproachable on purpose, opting to avoid the heated confrontation with Triss. Besides, at that point she knew Geralt no longer had feelings for her, so nothing she would have said would have mattered anyway.

But she was wrong, it would have mattered. It could've made the world of a difference. Then again, Yennefer still felt raw about the whole situation at the time. If they did try to hash it out in Novigrad, it most likely would've resulted in Yennefer losing her temper.

Now she would never know what the outcome might have been, but maybe she could control the outcome of her current situation if she heeded her daughters advice.

"The two of you can't go on like this forever," Ciri said softly into the silence, "take a chance to be happy, Gods know you deserve it more than anyone."

"You…You would support this?" Yennefer asked, surprised that Ciri didn't see the strangeness in it all.

"Of course I would!" she said, sounding surprised herself. She circled the table to where Yennefer still stood, coming to wrap her in a tight embrace, "I just want you to be happy. And you know I adore Triss, I think you would be good for each other."

Yennefer could see the possibility of them being right for each other, she wanted it to be true, even if she was still afraid to shed that armor and allow Triss into her life that way. Even in her exhausted state, she lay awake for some time that night, inhaling the pleasant aroma of the woman in her arms.

The more Ciri's words resounded in her head, the more sense it all seemed to make.

The third day was set with a morose tone, as Ciri would be departing later in the evening. She decided not to open shop so she could spend the day with the two women. Once they had all readied themselves for the day, the spent the morning practicing with Triss in the garden. Her skill grew with each passing day, and she was now able to launch the fireball from her hand, albeit feebly. The magic would shoot out a foot or two before dissipating to the snowy ground, but the smile on her face would have one believe she had just burned down a building, and Yennefer's chest nearly burst with pride.

They didn't spend too long out there; they retired back into the loft for lunch, and decided on wine and cheese. The conversation flowed throughout the afternoon, and she found herself wishing this moment could last longer. Not only for the joy it brought, but for the nerves that would inevitably come when she was alone with Triss again.

She couldn't keep her eyes off her; it's as though Ciri's advice and blessing had filled her with a newfound confidence that was beginning to outweigh the hesitation. It was as though her mind was slowly allowing herself to actually enjoy the feelings she was having for the woman, allowing her to appreciate her beauty instead of avoiding it.

Ciri glanced outside at the lowering sun, "So I guess first stop is Toussaint. Hopefully Geralt isn't too involved out there, but I'm sure he will want to come back. I'll return with him as soon as I can."

"Then we can work on tracking Philippa, assuming she doesn't come back here first," Yennefer added.

"It will take some time, a few weeks maybe?"

"It's alright," Triss said with a small smile, "I'll need more time to get my strength where it should be. I won't face him until I'm sure I can make him suffer."

"That's the spirit! Well, I suppose we better get started. I'd like to head out while we still have some daylight left."

"Are you sure you don't want to stay another night? Leave in the morning?" Yennefer asked, not out of concern, but she didn't want to see the woman go.

"Im sure, the sooner we can get everyone together, the sooner we can kill the bastard. Magical beings are still dying as we speak."

"You're right," Yennefer sighed, trying to keep the disappointment from her voice.

Ciri scooted closer to Triss on the sofa and took her good hand into both of her own, "Triss, I just want you to know how proud I am of you; I know how hard it must have been for you to get out of bed each morning, and make the effort to try, but here you are. You're doing it, and I promise you, we are going to make this right. I love you."

"Oh, Ciri, I love you too!" she nearly sobbed as she threw her arms around her neck, "thank you for helping me, for everything, I couldn't have done it without you."

"Yes you could've," she waved as they ended the hug. She stood from her seat and moved to the door, gathering up her pack that was waiting for her. Yennefer followed, to see her off.

"Think about what I said, Yen," Ciri whispered softly, "you can do this."

"I will," she replied, a sad smile tugging at her lips, "thank you. I really needed this, Ciri. I needed you."

"Youre going to be fine," Ciri said as she pulled her into her arms, a final embrace for their farewell, "we'll be back as soon as we can. I'll try to send word."

"Thank you," she breathed again, the words strained around the lump in her throat, "I love you."

"I love you too, mom," Ciri said emotionally, giving her a final squeeze, "I'll see you soon."

She watched her go over the threshold, before she conjured a portal and disappeared completely. Her eyes remained transfixed on the spot where she just stood, her heart bleeding sadness, before she slowly closed the door with a click.

Her spirits were lifted almost instantly when she felt arms encircle her waist from behind, pulling her into a hug. The action surprised her, but she quickly melted into it, letting the considerate emotion soothe her wounds.

"She'll be back soon," Triss whispered from behind her, "I'm sure of it."

Yennefer made to answer before a sound stopped her. Her eyed glanced to the window, immediately recognizing the pleasing noise. It was the music from the tavern in the square, signaling the end of another work day, now time for the citizens to fill their bellies and forget their troubles. It was a rather nice place, the Wounded Wyvern it was called, and she was suddenly struck with an idea.

She turned and met curious blue orbs, and Yennefer couldn't help the smile on her face when she looked at the woman.

"Would you like to go out for dinner?" she asked her, before she realized how much it sounded like a date. She wondered if Triss took it as such, and she had to admit the possibility was a little exhilarating.

But Triss looked a little uncomfortable, and she began to look anywhere but Yennefer. Her gaze finally settled on her prosthetic, turning it over as she contemplated Yennefer's request.

"I can get us a table with privacy," she added, and to her delight Triss began to smile with her, and she finally met her gaze.

"I'd love to."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I detect...A DATE?!?!?!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains telempathy! As with other magic in my story, it will work a teeny bit differently. Enjoy!

She fastened her diamond earrings before fixing the black choker around her neck. She found her palms to be infuriating sweaty inside her gloves, and she was annoyed at the fact she felt nervous for no reason. Especially when it was her idea.

Then she contemplated whether it was nerves at all, and rather a searing anticipation. She paced the kitchen as she waited for the woman, who insisted she could ready herself. She noticed Triss has gone to the spare room, it was also where Ciri and her had left her clothes. She wondered, now that the spare room was vacant once more, and Triss was doing so much better, if she would no longer sleep with Yennefer. It could be the defining moment in the path they were currently on, and she found herself hoping it wouldn't be the end. If Triss said nothing, and simply went to the spare room on her own accord, she wasn't sure she would try and stop her if that was what Triss wanted.

The sound of her footsteps forced her to abandon thought as she rounded the corner of the hall, looking as dazzling as ever in her blue gambeson accompanied by a midnight cloak adorning her shoulders. Her shining red hair was pulled back in her signature hairstyle, red tendrils softening the edges of her face.

Yennefer couldn't help but stare.

"You're rather adept at rendering me speechless," Yennefer purred in a low voice as she approached she was aware of how intimate her compliment was, but she figured they were past the point of subtlety now.

"The feeling is mutual," Triss said with a lopsided grin as her eyes raked over her body, "you look nice."

She smirked as she opened the door for them, allowing Triss to take the lead downstairs and out to the street. Yennefer locked the door of the shop behind them, and offered Triss an arm with a shy smile. She took it eagerly with her good arm once she pulled the hood of her cloak over her head, tucking her gauntlet out of sight into the fabric.

Their boots crunched in the snow, barely audible over the business of the street. The sky was alight with a purple glow in the setting sun, the air carrying a pleasant smoky aroma from the direction of the Inn.

"Vengerberg is beautiful," Triss said wistfully as she gazed at the snowy world around her, "I'm glad I got to see it."

"There's much more to see, I would be happy to show you," she said as they approached the inn, "this is The Wounded Wyvern, they do an excellent fish."

She opened the door, the warm air blasting through the chill, and they stepped into the candlelit room. Music played softly by a group of bards on the corner stage, and many heads turned to their direction once they entered. She felt Triss shift uncomfortably beside her, and she pulled her closer reassuringly.

"Madam Yennefer!" a voice boomed from their right, and she turned to see the innkeep beaming at them.

"Darby," she greeted warmly to the short, scrawny bald man, "business is well, I see?"

"Positively booming!" he squeaked cheerfully, "come come, let me seat you, best table in the house-"

"-Actually, Darby," she politely interjected, "I was hoping you had a more private table?"

"But of course!" he said after recovering slightly, "come to the back over here, nice and dark, a lone table for you and your companion!"

He lead them to the back of the room, where a table sat on a slightly elevated platform. True to his word, no other tables were placed very close by. He eagerly pulled out their chairs, before coming to stand before them.

"You've picked a lovely night to attend if I do say so myself," he said merrily as he clapped his hands together, "Lady Lorelai will be performing shortly, she has the voice of an army of angels!"

"That sounds wonderful," Yennefer replied, "and what of the menu for the evening?"

"We have our signature lemon and herb fish, caught fresh just this afternoon! Or if you would prefer red meat, we have a choice cut of veal and gravy."

"I'll have the fish, please," Triss said without having to think about it. Yennefer figured she wouldn't have an issue cutting the fish herself.

"I'll have the same," Yennefer decided, "and a bottle of your finest Toussaint red."

"Excellent choice, Madam Yennefer, I'll return with your meals post haste!"

With a quick bow the tiny man was scurrying off, and Yennefer could feel Triss' eyes on her. She turned and smiled under the gaze, "what is it?"

Triss smile grew, her eyes twinkling, "Toussaint red?"

She cocked an eyebrow, "that is your favorite, isn't it?"

Triss shook her head, her smile shy and a little disbelieving, "yes, it is, it's just…I'm surprised you remember. Now I'm definitely convinced you're spoiling me."

She bit her lip, "maybe I am. Maybe you deserve it."

The red head tongued her cheek and looked away, pretending to be interested in the music, but Yennefer could see the blush dusting her nose. She was fully aware that the two of them were now openly flirting, there was no denying it, and she was also certain as where the direction their relationship was headed. It's not as though she ever protested it as hard as she should've, and day by day, the voice that told her to run had grown a little quieter.

"You're rather popular here, aren't you? I'd say the people love you," Triss said, her voice filled with admiration.

Yennefer smiled wistfully as she gazed around the room, "I'm happy to assist the people of Vengerberg, no matter how trivial it all seems sometimes. I remember returning after Aretuza, and how bored I was of it all," she sighed at the memory, "I was young…green…I thirsted for a life of something _more_ , something grand. Gods, now that I've seen enough for ten lifetimes, it's a relief to be home."

"It looks as though the decision to return has been good to you," Triss said softly, "in all the years I've known you, I don't think I've ever seen you so at peace.".

"Do you ever think about returning to Maribor?" she asked the red head just as the wine arrived to their table. They both smiled gratefully to the servant girl as she filled their glasses, and waited for her departure before Triss continued.

"Honestly, no," she said as she eyed her glass, "it's not that the memories are bad, per say, but there's nothing there for me anymore. Aretuza was probably the only place that ever felt remotely like a home, as sad as that is."

Her eyes were amused at the self depreciating joke, but Yennefer was busy thinking of the fact that it was a truth she hadn't thought about before. Triss never really did have a home, not one she felt was hers anyway. The thought saddened her slightly.

"I suppose it doesn't matter much where one is from.," she said as she took a sip of the red liquid, "or rather, the lives we affect along the way. As I recall, you've made quite the name for yourself doing just that, _Merigold the Fearless."_

She added a sly wink as Triss laughed beautifully, the sound more heavenly than the music that flowed through the air. "that's me, though, perhaps not so much anymore."

Yennefer shook her head, "even more so now than ever. Radovid doesn't know what he's in for, when he comes to face you."

Triss' gazed at her with appreciation for her encouragement. She swore her eyes went to her lips for the briefest of moments, but it could have been her imagination.

"I think you're right," she said in a low voice, "sometimes I wonder what kind of woman I'll become if he were standing before me."

"You'll always be Triss Merigold," Yennefer said assuredly, "Fourteenth of the Hill. A force to be reckoned with, but one of the gentlest souls known to man. I know you won't do anything you don't wish to do."

"As long as I have you with me," she said shyly, and Yennefer didn't miss how her hand twitched on the table, as though tempted to reach for her.

Yennefer took it for her then, giving her hand a squeeze, "of course I will be."

Their food arrived then, creating a break in the conversation. The fish was divine, as usual, and she found herself happy to have someone to share the atmosphere with. Triss expressed her gratitude for the meal, seemingly pleased with the properly cooked food. Yennefer was just happy that Triss had come so far in her recovery to want to come out with her.

The crowded room began to whistle and cheer, as the torches were extinguished save for a few, leaving the room in a dull orange glow. Footsteps resounded on the stage as a beautiful woman with curly brown ringlets flowing down her back began to ascend the steps, a lute in hand.

Their attention was taken by the smiling woman, her eyelashes fluttering prettily under the gaze of the room. She took a seat at the stool center stage, and began to strum delicately, the light sound filling the now hushed room.

When she began to sing, the room gravitated impossibly closer to the sound. She had to admit, her voice was rather enthralling, though Triss' close proximity served to be much more distracting. She tried to focus on the song, to listen to the lyrics of the mournful lament of heartbreak and longing, but she found her arm much more interested in the woman beside her.

Triss had moved closer, shifting her chair to face the stage when Lady Lorelai appeared, and perhaps it was the dimmed lights or the privacy of their corner that emboldened her, but she moved to place a gentle hand at the small of Triss' back.

At first, the action seemed either unnoticed or unbothered, and Yennefer allowed herself to relax before she saw movement from the corner of her eye. It seemed Triss was never one to be outdone when it comes to their games, for she placed her warm hand on Yennefer's thigh, awfully close to the inside, and she swore she saw the woman smirk triumphantly.

Her smirk stirred something within Yennefer; it was the dominant side of her, the side that grew excited at the prospect of a challenge. Perhaps not here, but the thought of wiping the expression from her face behind closed doors might have once been an unwelcome one, but now it caused a pleasant surge of adrenaline in her belly.

It was unfortunately far from the first time she had fantasized about sex with her; she wondered just what kind of lover she was, what turned her on the most, what made her scream into the night in a voice thick with pleasure. She imagined Triss would be submissive, as she would hope for her to be, though she wouldn't object to Triss taking control of her either.

Which was currently at the forefront of her mind, as elegant fingers danced over the leather of her pants, stretching tantalizingly close to her nether regions. She had no doubts that if she were to reach over and undo the fabric right now, Triss would pleasure her right here in this room full of people, should she ask her to. The thought was dangerously tempting, so much so she had to clench her fist to stop her from doing something so incredibly stupid.

She wasn't sure how long she remained caught in between the addictive music and the exhilarating touch from Triss, stuck between wanting the moment to last longer and for it to dissipate entirely so she could think clearly again.

It wasn't until the crowd broke out in an uproarious cheer that she was jarred from her less than pure thoughts, and she looked down to see the hand had stopped it's ministrations and abandoned her thigh. Dragging her eyes upwards she was met with kind eyes, and she enjoyed the warmth that spread through her heart at the way Triss looked at her.

She wondered if her face betrayed what she felt only moments ago, and she cleared her throat awkwardly, "would you like to head back? You look tired," she resisted the urge to stroke her cheek.

"Yes, that sounds good," she agreed, taking a proffered arm as she stood.

Yennefer paid their bill and led them back into the now dark street, the chill in the air sharper than it had been earlier. She pulled Triss a little closer to her without thinking, though she met no resistance.

"That was so nice," Triss said dreamily, "I didn't know you had a care for music now?"

Yennefer snorted, "well, Dandelion had ruined it for me there for awhile. But I do find it enjoyable, now that I have the time for it. I'm glad you liked it."

"It was wonderful," she sighed happily, "thank you for convincing me to get out of the house. I think I needed that."

"Im happy you agreed to come with me," Yennefer replied as she unlocked the door to her shop. It was dark when they entered the loft, and with a wave of her hand the fire had come to life, casting shadows on the room around them.

The air grew heavy around them as neither spoke, wordlessly removing their boots at the door. Yennefer tried to steady her heart as she decided to take the lead down the hall towards her bedroom. She could hear Triss following quietly behind her, even as she entered her chambers, though the sound of her footsteps ceased at the doorway.

She braced herself as she began to remove her earrings at the dresser, she could feel Triss' gaze on her, could practically hear the words she wanted to say, and she didn't have to wait long for them to become reality.

"Yenna?" she said softly, her voice full of uncertainty.

She stopped what she was doing, giving the woman the respect of facing her for this conversation.

"Yes?"

She shifted on her feet uncomfortably, a blush evident on her face, "I was thinking…with Ciri gone, it's really no longer necessary I continue to sleep in your bed…if you want, I can move back to the spare room?"

And there it was. The question was out there. The one whose answer would decide where they went from here. She knew what Triss was _really_ asking, she too grew tired of the game of cat and mouse, the field of uncertainty they continued to play in. It was here and now, she gave Yennefer the choice, the one they would take together, depending on what came out of her mouth next.

She surprised herself, when she already knew her answer.

"Come here," she said softly, holding out her hand.

A beat, then Triss legs slowly carried her to the dresser as though in a dream. She gave a trembling hand to Yennefer, who took it and held it gently between them, her thumbs caressing the soft skin.

"I want you to stay," she whispered, watching as Triss' breath hitched in her throat. Yennefer had to break her gaze, her eyes going to their entwined hands, "Triss…"

The words stuck infuriatingly in her throat. She was Yennefer of Vengerberg, for fuck sake, and she couldn't convey her feelings to the woman in front of her like a normal person. She watched as the silver glove came to rest on one of her hands, the metal soothing her burning skin.

"Talk to me," Triss pleaded, her voice barely audible over her own heartbeat.

She wet her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. She forced her eyes to meet Triss', refusing to cower in the face of her feelings.

"I've been having these feelings for you," she began, her voice barely steady, "feelings I never expected, nor do I understand. I think you know…"

Triss nodded numbly, her eyes locked on Yennefer's as she hung on every word.

She swallowed hard, "I tried to ignore it, I really did, I…I never wanted this to happen Triss."

She didn't miss how Triss flinched at her words, the sting affecting them both.

"Why?" she whispered, her eyes glistening.

Yennefer stepped closer to her, so she may hear what she was barely able to choke out, "because I don't want to put myself in a position to be hurt by you again."

Triss' gasped and her lip trembled, and she removed her hand from Yennefer's grasp to place it on her cheek. It was warm and comforting, and she leaned into the touch as though she craved it.

"I would never hurt you again, Yenna," she said tearfully, her eyes pleading, "I know you can't believe that, but I would spend every day proving it to you," her breath shuddered as she spoke.

Yennefer shook her head, "it doesn't matter. Even if I can't be sure, I don't want to run from it anymore. I'm no coward, if this is to hurt me," her voice was a whisper as she drew her hands up to Triss face, her thumbs sweeping the tense muscles of her jaw, "so be it."

She closed the distance between them, letting her senses to be filled with the honeycrisp sweetness that was Triss Merigold, relishing in the whimper that escaped her lips before it was shortly lost in her own mouth when they made contact.

It was nothing like the first time they kissed; that one had been violent and born of anger, it sought to take rather than to give. This one had to be opposite of all of that. It was soft and full of a curiosity, a sweet tenderness, dare she say even _loving_. Triss moved her lips gently against her own, her arms already wrapped around Yennefer's neck.

She tasted like spring; like the sweetness only found once a year when everything is in full bloom, the world a kaleidoscope of colors. If she could convert it to a sense of taste, this had to be it. Her abdomen clenched when her tongue ran gently along her bottom lip, timidly asking for more, and Yennefer would oblige her, she would give her anything in this moment.

Her lips parted to allow Triss further access, their tongues moving together gently in what was not a war for dominance, but in wonderful exploration. She moved her hands from Triss' face, letting them roam briefly down her figure to rest on her hips and pulled her closer until they were flush together.

She wondered how she had held it together for so long, for now that she had just a taste of the woman, she knew it would never be enough. Her heart ached when she realized that it would likely be just like Geralt all over again, the longing, the desperation.

Her hand had snaked to her raven locks, she felt the pull as she anchored her there, and she heard the keening sound from the back of Triss' throat, the whimper out of fear of loss. So she pressed back, trying to convey her will to be here through it, to let her know she wasn't running this time.

She felt the both of them collide gently with something solid; it was the dresser, Triss had pulled them to it, as though she didn't trust her legs to hold her up any longer. Yennefer in kind tightened the grip around her waist, cementing the woman to her.

After what seemed like an eternity they parted reluctantly for air, though they didn't separate their bodies. She dared open her eyes, where she was met with a sea of blue, hooded and alight with desire. She felt her breath coming out in soft, rapid pants against her lips, and her eyes dropped even lower to where the expanse of skin that covered her pulse thudded madly on her throat, the beating flesh calling to her inner desires.

She dipped her head lower, as a woman possessed, latching her warm lips to the enticing bit of flesh, suckling on the pulse she knew she caused to race so.

"Oh! _Yenna…"_ Triss gasped, her voice laced with primal need, fueling the fire that had begun to burn low in her belly. She wanted to hear her name spoken with such lust again, she wanted to hear it always.

She _needed_ it.

So she sunk her teeth into the soft of her neck, clamping her legs together as Triss hissed in pleasurable pain.

" _Y-Yenna!_ Please-wait-"

She drew back, the word being uttered from Triss lips was enough to pierce through the fog of arousal currently enveloping her brain. She tried to make sense of it all, had she grossly misread the situation? Was it Triss, who would regret this, and not her like she would've thought?

She searched her eyes for a hint of discomfort, but all she found was the same burning desire that was surely reflected in her own expression. Her brows furrowed in a question, waiting for Triss to explain her sudden retraction.

Triss worried her lip between her teeth, still puffy from the kiss they shared only moments ago. The act was adorable, though equally arousing.

"There's something I need you to know," Triss finally said into the quiet of the room, "sit with me."

Yennefer was thoroughly nonplussed, but her hazy condition allowed Triss to lead them to the bed. Part of her mind screamed to continue what they were doing, the throb in her loins frustrated by the interruption, but whatever was on Triss' mind was clearly important to her.

She resisted the urge to reach for her again. As though with the now open floodgates of their relationship, she couldn't get enough of her. She spent countless hours of the night imagining her hands on the woman, and now that she was finally doing it, it took everything in her to hold back. She turned to her, and Triss took her hand into her own, her eyes focused on the way her thumb swept across her palm, as though grounding her.

"Do you remember," she started, her voice light and soothing on the ears, "when we were...in the bathtub, when you said there was something I wasn't telling you?"

She did remember, "yes?"

"There is something," she said, her voice wavering slightly, "something that might shed light onto everything I've done, everything that I'm doing…"

Yennefer was confused. She shook her head slightly, her mind racing to figure out what she was talking about.

"You can tell me," she breathed, squeezing her hand in kind.

Triss sighed, her shoulders slumping with the burden of the knowledge she carried. "I'm not sure you'd believe me if I told you…I think it might be best if I _show_ you."

Her brows furrowed, "show me?"

She watched her throat bob, her gaze still transfixed on Yennefer's hand as though studying. She turned it over, running her fingers over the soft skin, stopping to trace her rings, running the length to her fingernails.

"Telempathy," she whispered simply, though the word carried much more weight than one might guess.

Yennefer's gaze snapped to her then, her expression incredulous. What Triss was suggesting was a sensitive subject in the sorceress world, the main reason being just how intimate and personal such an act of magic was. There were strict, unwritten rules that all magical beings abided by when it came to mind reading, such as the understanding that it is never, ever, to be committed without the explicit consent of both parties involved. The mind is dangerously powerful, and to connect with ones mind is to connect with their deepest secrets and desires, should you easily go looking. Not only their thoughts, but their rawest of emotions as well, and nothing could be done to hide said feelings once someone was inside.

Her mouth hung open in disbelief. She was tempted to see what Triss had stored in the recesses of her mind, she would be lying to herself if she said she wasn't curious. But the fact that Triss was even _offering_ to show her such a private part of her, surely meant that she would tell the truth if Yennefer asked her to.

"Triss, you don't have to do this-"

"I want to," she interjected, "I know what this means…and I have nothing to hide from you. Anything you see, I'm prepared for you to do so."

Yennefer searched her gaze for any hint of hesitation. While Triss looked slightly perplexed, her gaze was unwavering.

"If you're sure…"

"I am," she insisted, albeit a little shakily, "I only fear that you'll run from what you find there. That you'll run from me."

Yennefer turned more on the bed, pulling Triss with her, until they were sitting cross-legged and facing one another. She took Triss hand into both of her own, her face set in a steely resolve.

"I'm done running. I won't run from you, and I won't run from this. Whatever it is, we will work through it together. I promise you."

Triss gave her a watery smile, before taking a deep, shuddering breath. "Alright, are you ready?"

Yennefer nodded, her words failing her. Triss sat a little taller, and locked her gaze onto her. Violet orbs onto the woman's cornflower blues, Yennefer felt the familiar hum of magic began to pulse in her ears, whispers of Triss mind beginning to flow into her conscience.

As expected, the connection then burst open like a floodgate, and she was thrown from her current reality into the depths of Triss' memories.

_Her eyes adjusted to her new surroundings, now inside Triss mind where she kept the memories of her life thus far. She was seeing the world as though through Triss' eyes, and she was surprised to be staring at her own self, at what appeared to be the dining table in Aretuza._

_It was a little bizarre, watching her younger self sit down at her own side, or rather Triss' side. She was a little confused as to why Triss chose this memory to show her, and she almost decided to push away until she felt something. Something in the way she was looking at herself, she could feel what Triss was feeling in this moment._

_Longing, desire, and complete and utter heartbreak. She felt Triss' opinion of her beauty in this moment, how her eyes were drawn to her, as though Yennefer was the only one in the room._

_And this was long before Geralt._

_Triss was looking at her, even then?_

_Before she could dwell on Triss' feelings of sadness for long, the memory before her changed, swirling in color and voices so loud it was nearly overwhelming. But the images changed rapidly, and she found herself staring up at a ceiling. Wait, she knew this room-_

_Kaer Morhen. She was in Kaer Morhen. Geralts room, to be specific._

_She felt her true self blood begin to boil slightly, when she saw Geralt enter the room clad in nothing but a towel._

_"There you are," he said to her, a half smile playing on his lips, "how much time do you have?"_

_"All the time for you," Triss chuckled, and Yennefer definitely didn't know why she was showing her this one. It only served to fuel her anger, and witnessing Triss and Geralt in the throes of passion definitely wasn't something she wanted to see._

_But he was already crossing the floor, leaning down to press a whiskered kiss to her lips-_

_And Triss heart felt sour._

_She felt dirty, and she felt how Triss didn't want to kiss him. In fact, she felt her disgust when it happened. So why did she do it?_

_She wished it wasn't his lips. She wished it wasn't his hand coming to cup her breast, no, she wished it to be Yennefer's._

_She felt dizzy inside the connection suddenly, almost breaking it completely. Triss' emotions, along with her own born of confusion, were beginning to feel suffocating. Before she could begin to make sense of it all, the memory rapidly changed again._

_She was walking briskly up a set of polished wooden stairs, the action a little frantic. It took her a moment to recognize the surroundings, but when the bards music began to flow up the stairwell she knew they must be at The Chameleon. She also deduced that she must have been here too, somewhere, that this must be when they came to find Philippa after the battle at Kaer Morhen._

_Bursting through a seemingly random door on the second floor, she was displeased to find Philippa in this memory as she had suspected, though she could also feel Triss' relief upon finding her._

_Philippa's head swiveled in her direction, "Triss."_

_Panic welled up in Triss' chest as shaky legs took her towards the sorceress, "Phil,-"_

_"Don't waste either of our time explaining yourself," Philippa drawled, her lips pursed in a displeased line, "because I was right."_

_Triss shook her head, her vision welling up with tears, "I-I didn't mean for this to h-happen-"_

_"But you must have?" Philippa said unkindly, "I don't know what you expected when you went chasing after Geralt."_

_"I just…I just thought-"_

_"What, that she would actually fall in love with you? You seduced what was hers, Triss, you need to put an end to this ridiculous delusion."_

_She felt Triss' desperation, "I didn't want her to…to want him, I-Gods, I'm…I'm sick, Philippa. I don't know what's wrong with me! I never wanted to h-hurt her! I didn't think he meant s-so much to her-!"_

_Triss began to sob, and she felt her fear for doing so in front of Philippa. "I just thought she would come b-back to me, and-"_

_"Stop your blubbering," Philippa warned, and Triss ceased her tears immediately, "I warned you not to go meddling in their relationship, now look at yourself. Heartbroken over a woman who wouldn't look twice your way. And history repeats itself Triss, as you come crawling back to me, itching for something to take the pain away."_

_Triss nodded, her heart shattering in her chest, "please, Phil…"_

_Philippa stood from her seat, making her way over to Triss, towering over the woman as she cowered in on herself._

_"The Triss I knew had so much potential," she said with disgust, "this is just pathetic." She was quiet for a moment, as though she were sizing her up, ready to strike. Her jaw flexed, and she didn't miss the twitch in Philippa's hands._

_"Strip, and face the wall."_

_Yennefer didn't want to see this part, where she belittled the woman and treated her so cruelly., especially if she was going to be forced to see Philippa in the near future. The anger she felt was almost enough to overshadow the conversation between them she had just witnessed._

_Triss must have anticipated Yennefer's unwillingness to see what transpired afterwards, for the memory changed again, and soon the painful scene before her dissipated in a blur of color and noise._

_A dripping sound filled her ears. The room she found herself in was dark, the floors warped and slanted, the candlelight on the desk doing almost nothing to illuminate her surroundings. The rain was relentless outside, and she wondered what Triss was doing, living in such squalor. She deduced that it must be where she stayed in Novigrad as she sought to free the mages._

_Triss was sad, in this memory, as with her other ones. She reached for a large, leather bound book that had been tucked away in a drawer, underneath various stacks of parchment._

_She reached for a piece of stray charcoal on the desk, and cracked open the leather._

_Yennefer swore her heart stopped._

_The first page was her, or rather a drawing of her, sitting on a bench underneath a tree. She had an unimpressed look on her face, and she figured this was probably how she looked to everyone. But the drawing itself was immaculate, it had captured her features divinely, down to the last curl of hair._

_Triss began to flip through the pages, and Yennefer couldn't believe what the book held. Dozens, if not hundreds, sketches of her in various poses, outfits. Some were profiles, some were silhouettes, and others were shockingly in the nude, even. Some she was smiling, others she was angry, some where she looked like a serene goddess._

_She stopped at a page in particular. It was of Yennefer's shoulders and up. She wore no clothes, though the picture stopped just at the top of her breasts. She still wore her signature choker around her neck, and the picture depicted her rolling the pendant between her thumb and forefinger, her gaze locked on something in the distance, her expression almost thoughtful._

_Triss fingers stretched daintily over the sketch, the tips running gently down the curve of her face, over her lips._

_She longed for her._

_More than that, it was clear from both what she saw, and what she knew Triss felt, that Triss Merigold was undeniably in love with her. So much so, it seemed to border on obsession, or at least an infatuation._

_Hundreds of drawings, all of them a decree of her love._

_For years, decades even, she felt this way, and Yennefer was none the wiser._

_She loved her._

She broke the connection with a gasp, her eyes wide as she stared at the blushing sorceress before her, who wore a look of utter shame now that her secret was out.

She tried desperately to say something, but all she could manage was-

"Oh _shit."_


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically smut for the next 2 chapters. Enjoy ya animals!

Her chest heaved as she tried to process all the images she just saw. Triss looked terribly small, refusing to meet Yennefer's eyes, looking almost like she did when she had first woken from her slumber. Her mind was a whirlwind; Triss was in love with her. She never wanted Geralt. Even though this does not excuse what she did to her, she obviously wasn't in the right state of mind when she did it. She wanted Yennefer to hate Geralt, and in a twisted and desperate attempt to keep them separated, she slept with him.

And Philippa knew of this the entire time. It irked Yennefer to know Philippa had this knowledge when she didn't, and she wad surprised she had not used it against her somehow. Then again, it appears that she _did_ use it against Triss. She seemed to have some kind of dominant relationship with her, "punishing" her whenever Triss would stray from what she wanted for her. Perhaps it didn't help Philippa's ego to know that Triss was in love with _her,_ rather than her teacher. Suddenly, her strange encounter with the woman in her doorway suddenly made sense; how she claimed Yennefer was oblivious, and her concern that Yennefer would wind up hurting her.

"Youre…You're in love with me?" Yennefer whispered, though her voice seemed loud against the tense air.

To her alarm, Triss' face crumpled immediately, her hand coming to grip her face as to hide her shame and embarrassment, as well as contain the sob that threatened to burst past her lips.

"I'm _so_ sorry," she managed, her voice muffled behind her hand. "I understand if y-you…"

She never finished her sentence, the emotion proving too great to bear. She lowered her head and continued to weep, unable to face Yennefer. Whether she thought Yennefer would laugh at her, or run away despite her promise, she wasn't sure.

It was strange, the fact that she didn't want to run. Upon hearing something like this, in fact if she were told by anyone that they were in love with her, which was certainly many times, her very first instinct was to _always_ run. But she didn't feel that way now.

She watched the broken angel fall apart in front of her with the knowledge of her shameful secret that she had kept locked up all those years was finally exposed, to Yennefer no less, and all she wanted was to take Triss in her arms.

More than that, she wanted to kiss her again. She wanted Triss to make her feel like she did in those drawings, she wanted to feel her hands roaming her body, memorizing every inch of her. She couldn't explain why the knowledge of her love only seemed to fuel Yennefer's desires, but it did.

The only part that scared her, was the fact that she rather enjoyed being loved by Triss. That she was open to it. Maybe even open to loving her back, after everything they had been through. In a way, she already did. It was why her betrayal hurt her so, it was why she rescued her from that prison. Maybe she never hated Triss, but rather, something _else_.

Without thinking, she took Triss' trembling hand which was still locked in her own, turning it until her palm was facing upwards. She leaned forward and pressed her lips there, effectively stilling the woman across from her. Triss now looked at her curiously through tear soaked lashes, her breath coming out unevenly.

"Yenna-?"

"Tell me," Yennefer whispered into her skin.

"Tell you…?"

"Say it."

Triss' breath hitched, her throat bobbing nervously, "I…I love you."

Yennefer couldn't hold back the deep purr that rumbled in her throat as she let Triss' words wash over her. Yes, she liked that. She kissed her wrist, the one she had cut, the stitches still hidden under the bandage, "again."

Triss lurched when Yennefer continued to press kisses to her arm, the skin hot under her mouth, "I love you, Yennefer."

She felt something snap inside of her, and she pulled on the arm in her grasp, eliciting a gasp from the other woman as she practically fell into her lap. But Yennefer was strong, and she expertly grabbed her hips and swung her feet around, so that she was now sitting on the edge of the bed with Triss straddling her. Her face was a beautiful shade of scarlet as she glanced down at their new position, her expression one of disbelief but lustful, as she gazed down at Yennefer through hooded lids.

She didn't hesitate to capture her lips again, this time with more fervor than before. Their tongues locked together, and she didn't miss how Triss shifted in her lap, as though desperate to create some friction between them, and suddenly the barrier of clothes between them was too much.

Her hands shook ever so slightly as the raised them to the fabric of the midnight blue gambeson, but she managed to deftly undo the strings without fumbling. She broke the kiss, but didn't let her eyes leave Triss, as she peeled the clothing from her shoulders, revealing nothing but a shift underneath.

With bated breath she removed that too, searching for resistance in the other woman's face. She found slight embarrassment as the fabric was removed altogether, leaving her pale skin exposed to the night air. It wasn't as though Yennefer had never seen her before, but she knew of the sensitivity that surrounded Triss' scars, for she made to cover up her chest the moment it was in sight.

But Yennefer's hands rested gently on her forearms, and wordlessly, she shifted her attention to the gauntlet. She saw Triss further retract into herself as she removed the prosthetic, her scars and mutilations now fully on display, with no clothing or jewelry to hide them.

The glove slid off with no resistance, and she placed it gently off to the side. Triss still instinctively tried to curl her arms in on herself, but Yennefer was already gripping her forearm, the one missing a hand. Without thinking twice, she brought the extremity to her lips, placing gentle kisses to the stump. Again and again, she pressed her lips to the freshly healed wound, showering it with intimate attention, worshipping it, _loving_ it with the same attention she would pay the rest of her.

She glanced upwards to find Triss barely holding herself together, tears slipping silently down her face as she watched the very private ministrations Yennefer was giving to her arm, shocked that someone could do such a thing to something she considered to be too ugly for love.

She swept the pads of her thumbs under her eyes, catching any stray tears that threatened to fall. Her attention went downwards, to the exposed flesh of her chest in front of her. She repeated the process, pressing her lips to the mangled scar tissue from where she was burned, running her tongue gently up the deep rivulets from where the skin had fused together. She heard Triss choke back a sob, and she kissed her harder.

"You're so beautiful," she whispered into the skin between her breasts, her eyes raking up to meet Triss', "your scars are the most beautiful of all. I want to taste every inch of them, every inch of you. You never have to hide yourself from me, I never want you to feel ashamed or unworthy."

Her lip trembled as she listened to Yennefer's words, witnessed her actions, "you still find me…desirable? You could have anyone…"

Her hands cupped her cheeks, forcing Triss to look at her, "I want _you_. I desire _you_ , with all of your scars and imperfections. To me, you are _perfect_."

Her smile was gorgeous, because it was genuine, a rarity for Triss nowadays. But in this moment, she looked as though she believed Yennefer's words to be true. Yennefer hoped she did, because they held more truth than she could ever express.

Triss hands had been resting on her shoulders, but now spurred on by Yennefer's encouragement, she was finally able to relax and allow herself to be lost in the same desires that Yennefer was. Her hand toyed with the lacing of her blouse, as though asking the questions to proceed. Instead of waiting for an answer, she began to tug on the laces without warning, and Yennefer was just happy she was able to find that confidence. She didn't mind playing a dominant and submissive role with the woman, but she didn't want the same barrier to exist between them as it did with her and Philippa. If Triss wanted to touch her, she didn't want her to be afraid to do so.

It was in this moment she realized it was best to give Triss that semblance of control she might not realize she needed. Triss' body had been horribly abused, the last time someone touched her was in a way that was certainly not loving, no, it was vile and it was stolen from her. Triss needed this done at her pace, and she needed to prove to herself that she was still capable of making love with someone.

So she allowed Triss to remove her clothing, to take the gambeson off on her own time without aid, so she didn't feel like she was useless or unable. She shrugged out of the clothes that now clung loosely to her frame, enjoying how Triss' eyes raked hungrily over her exposed breasts.

"I can't believe this is real…" she breathed in a daze, her hand coming up as though wanting to touch the soft mounds before her. Yennefer smirked and took it in her grasp, pressing it to her breast, relishing in the way Triss' eyes slipped shut, as though her wildest dreams were coming true.

The feeling of her warm hand kneading her breast gently was enough to send a pleasant heat through her abdomen, but seeing Triss so tantalizingly close with her own bare chest, Yennefer wanted to feel more.

So she pulled her down, eliciting an adorable gasp from the redhead as they crashed into the blankets, the sound cut off abruptly when she pressed a searing kiss to her lips. The feeling of their breasts pressed together stoked the fire as suspected, and combined with the strange thrill that this was _Triss_ , she knew where this was leading.

She was almost ashamed at how ready she was; she never pined after Geralt, would always make him work on the buildup of her arousal, while Triss seemed to have effortlessly turned her into a blushing, soaking mess. The need for the removal of her pants was at the forefront of her mind, for she knew they wouldn't get anywhere without that.

"Triss-" she managed to gasp, before she took her lip in her teeth again, effectively cutting her communication off with a drawn out hiss of pleasure. "Triss-pants, _now_."

She made an effort to assist her this time, partially due to her increasing impatience fueled by the ravenous need pulsing in her belly Triss didn't seem to mind her assistance, as it was clear her movements were beginning to become frantic as well.

In a swift motion she pulled Triss to the mattress, to yank down the tight leather riding pants she wore as well, leaving milky skin now exposed to the air, but the fire provided ample light for her to appreciate the beauty before her.

She took a moment to hover over her, her eyes raking over her taught stomach, trailing downwards to where a soft patch of red hair began at her womanhood. She salivated at the prospect of devouring the woman before her, but she forced herself to show restraint in this moment, as minimal a supply she had.

Instead their gazes found each others, and Yennefer felt like she should say something, and the way Triss' soft lips parted slightly indicated that she felt the same. But Yennefer had no words to describe how she felt in this moment, so she kissed her sweetly instead.

Triss tongue filled her mouth delightfully and with great enthusiasm, the same sugar sweet scent clouding her senses again, and she barely registered the shift on the bed when Triss forced her onto her back, reversing their roles.

"I want you _so_ bad-"

Her breath was on the shell of her ear, she felt her tongue run along the edge.

"-the things I've imagined-"

Her words were sultry, a tone she had never heard from Triss before, a tone that drove her mad.

"I want to taste you, to be _inside_ you…"

Suddenly, a thigh is pressed tight into the apex of her legs, and she was disgusted with herself when she heard the small, needy word uttered from her own lips; " _please…"_

She heard Triss gasp and her face burned further, the reaction no doubt due to the copious amount of fluid that dripped from between her legs, her quickness to arousal now evident.

"Yenna," she moaned, her breath tickling her ear, and Gods what she wouldn't do to hear her name spoken like that again. "You're _so_ ready for me…"

She gripped her shoulders, the buildup almost too much to bear, "Gods, Triss-"

"I had no idea I excited you so much," Triss drawled out, clearly pleased with the situation, "tell me, just how long have you been thinking about this too?"

She tried to clear the fog from her mind, her voice coming out hoarse and strained, "Since...Since shortly after your ah-arrival," she hiccups as the muscular thigh began to move against her.

" _Mmmm if only I knew…"_

Teeth sunk into the soft flesh of her neck and she cried out, before a warm tongue soothed the area. Her hands flew to Triss' waist, pulling her harder into her, desperately seeking more adequate friction into her burning center.

"Don't tease me," she growled softly, her nails digging into the soft flesh of her hips. Their game had gone on far too long, her body refused to waste anymore time. There would be time to enjoy it, to explore it, but now she just needed Triss to soothe the pressure building in her nether regions.

"Don't worry," Triss chuckled into her neck, before pulling back and locking her eyes on her, "I've been waiting long enough."

Without warning she moved lower, and Yennefer never took her eyes off of her as she latched her warm mouth onto her left breast, suckling on the painfully hard peak.

" _Fuck!"_ she cried as she arched into the woman, the flat of her tongue spreading soothing warmth over her nipple, and she thought her brain might explode when she took it into her teeth. She didn't have time to explore why it felt so different than with Geralt, when he would do much of the same things to her body. But he never could make her nearly come by just playing with her breasts.

Triss' ministrations were almost enough for her to temporarily forget about the fire burning in her loins, and her hands went to the woman's hair _-oh_! Was it ever soft, like silk running through her fingers. She craved the pleasant feeling it left on her palms, and she buried her grip in deeper.

Triss hummed on her breast, her suckling gentle but purposeful, and Yennefer mourned the loss when she detached herself slowly, the hair slipping through her fingers, her wet nipple stiffening in the night air at the abandonment of the lips that kissed it so tenderly.

The loss was quickly replaced by the thrum in her loins and a quickening of her heart, as Triss left a burning trail of kisses and love bites down her stomach. She stopped at her hips, nipping at the peak of the bone and running the flat of her tongue along the sensitive dip beside it.

The muscles in her core jolted, and her hand flew back to the red tresses that now seemed everywhere, urging the head they belonged to to carry on in it's mission.

She couldn't supress the moan that tore past her lips when she felt a gentle tongue tease at her folds, and Triss couldn't either.

"Fuck, you taste _so good_ ," she keened into her, before diving her tongue in deeper than before, as though trying to taste every drop of her arousal. She felt her dip into her entrance, the muscle curling and licking at her walls.

"Ah, _Mmpf_ …don't stop…"

Spurred on by her words, her actions took on a new vigor, and when her tongue found the ball of nerves crowned at the top of her womanhood, it was as though lightening had shot through her veins, turning her blood white hot.

" _OH FUCK!_ Oh, oh Gods, Triss-"

She was abruptly cut off by a wail tearing from her throat, lost in the lustful air around them. She wanted desperately to make this last, to make Triss work for her climax, but much to her embarrassment she knew it couldn't possibly be long. Triss was an expert with her mouth, she knew all the right places, as though she already knew Yennefer's body like a carefully memorized map.

She was vaguely aware of how her body trembled so, and she felt Triss' bad arm hook around her thigh and squeeze, while her hand-

She nearly screamed as she felt her digits plunge inside her to the knuckle, while her mouth remained firmly latched onto her womanhood. She tried to focus on Triss, the scene before her incredibly erotic, but her vision was clouded by white light, so she allowed them to roll to the back of her head as she gripped onto Triss like a lifeline.

She began a steady rhythm, pumping her fingers in and out of her, coaxing every sound she could out of Yennefer. Her breath is coming out in strained bursts, as she desperately tried to intake enough oxygen to keep up with her heart. Her hips begin to buck against her, matching the wonderful pace that had been set by the redhead. The familiar build was beginning to put pressure in her loins, and she gave up on drawing this out and instead chased the feeling

"I'm close," she whimpered, her voice laced with lust mixed with slight humiliation, "G-Gods I'm _so_ close!"

She wasn't sure why Triss would choose that time to detach herself from her clit, but any protest she had ready was wiped from her mind as Triss slammed her fingers into her, her palm coming to rub furious circles on her bud of nerves and just like that the feeling was back in full force.

Meanwhile, Triss had inched her way back up to come face to face with her, propping herself on her elbow as her hand worked down below.

"Look at me, Yenna," came the breathy voice above her, and she forced her eyes open to meet Triss' gaze. Her eyes shone like fine sapphires even in the dark, looking at Yennefer as though she were a goddess come to earth, filled with unbridled lust and unmistakable love.

"I want to watch you come," was all she said, her voice barely audible over the blood pounding in her ears, but it was all it took.

She shuddered as her jaw went slack, tears stinging at her eyes as her vision exploded with light as she hit the crest of her pleasure, her climax tearing through her body like a storm. A sharp cry of pure ecstasy built deep in her chest tore from her lips, burning through her throat in the most pleasant of ways. Her body was riddled with aftershocks as she crossed the other side of her peak, and with a slight lurch in her gut Triss removed her hand gently and cradled her glistening body as she rode through the remainder of her orgasm.

Soft lips were peppering kisses onto her forehead as her breathing began to regulate, and she couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips at how undeniably sweet Triss was to her. She was a generous, caring lover, unlike Geralt or any of her past flings. Geralt was rough, it was just who he was as a man, and while it was enjoyable she found it couldn't compare to this.

Triss pulled back, and was gazing at her with an adorably shy smile, her mouth still glistening with her juices. She gave into the urge to taste herself on her lips, sitting up and kissing her gently. Her tongue swiped across her lips, cleaning her.

She wanted to be honest with Triss from here on out; no longer would she let the woman guess what she was feeling, no more would she be kept in the dark. She owed it not only to Triss, but to herself. If she thought Triss was beautiful, she would tell her. If she wanted Triss as much as she knew in her heart she did, she would let her know.

"Triss?" she said softly, her voice still trembling slightly from their endeavours. She cleared her throat as she pushed herself up into a sitting. Concern flashed in Triss' eyes for a moment, before Yennefer pulled her into her lap so she was straddling her again.

And she embraced her, tightly, wrapping her arms around her mid section and resting her cheek against the rough flesh of her chest. She breathed in the springtime scent, as she tried to find her words. Triss, surprised for a moment, recovered quickly and melted into the touch, wrapping her arms around Yennefer's shoulders and holding her there.

"No one has ever made me feel like that," her voice was soft and gentle, and Triss stroked her hair lovingly. "I don't know what that means but…I have an idea." She loosened her grip so she could meet her gaze, and found shining blue orbs filled with patience.

Yennefer breathed deep, "I want you, _all_ of you. I…I want to be yours and yours alone…maybe…" she reached for a loose strand of red hair, tucking it behind her ear, "maybe this could work…you and I, I mean."

Triss exhaled slowly as her words sunk in. She leaned forward to rest their foreheads together, and Yennefer resisted the urge to kiss her, just for now.

"All these years, I would have given _anything_ to hear you say those words," she whispered softly, her voice a light purr, "it was hard for me to accept that I probably never would…so hard, it drove me to do unforgivable things," to Yennefer's surprise, she smiled broadly, "turns out all I had to do was mortally wound myself."

Yennefer smiled with her, shocked at how night and day Triss' attitude was now that they had this all out in the open, "the past is over now, all we can do is move forward, together." Her expression grew solemn; while she knew Triss' remark was in jest, she wanted the woman to know there was no underlying truth to it. "I don't know why I'm only now seeing you this way for the first time, and I…I don't want it to seem like what happened to you was in any way a good thing…but it _did_ bring us back together, and gave us the opportunity to mend our relationship. Despite the circumstances, I'm happy you're here. And I'm happy that we discovered this part, too."

It was the most she had said regarding her feelings since Triss' arrival, and her efforts were appreciated as Triss' smile grew wider, and she pressed a soft, slow kiss to her lips.

"If you truly want me," she said against her mouth, "I'm yours, Yenna."

Heat bloomed in her chest when she uttered those sweet words. She knew Triss didn't _belong_ to anyone, not truly, but Yennefer admittedly had a possessive personality. She didn't like people touching what was hers, and it was almost laughable that she once hated this very woman for doing just that. Now, she would be mad at Geralt should he try with her again, or if Philippa tried any of her poisonous tactics on her.

It was bizarre and dripping with irony, but she relished in the idea that Triss belonged to her now.

So she sealed their new promise to each other with a kiss, a promise to be honest henceforth, to do this together. She could feel the amount of love Triss poured into every action, and she let it fill her completely, warming her once cold and hardened self, erasing the harsh years of bitterness as though they never happened.

Hands roamed alabaster skin, over freckled shoulders and over her breasts, pausing to knead the soft mounds gently. Triss mewled softly onto her lips, the hand in her hair tightening deeper into her midnight hair.

She wanted to explore every inch of her, memorize every sensitive part, every part that made her moan in her ear, or shiver under her touch. She craved it like a woman gone mad, and she swore to herself that she would give Triss' body the attention it deserved, under a loving hand.

She gently pinched both peaks of her breasts, though hard enough to get a reaction from the woman. She shuddered against her, her hips jerking slightly in her lap as a sharp gasp escaped her lips.

"Do you want me?" Yennefer drawled as she gazed up at the woman through hooded lids.

"Gods _yes_ ," was the immediate reply, as her hips moved again, desperately seeking contact. Yennefer would happily oblige her, as she wrapped one arm around her to steady the woman from the back, while the other trailed to her stomach.

The full breasts in front of her were too tantalizing to abandon, however, and she took one of her pert nipples into her lips and began to suckle on the stiff flesh.

"Ah! _Mmmpf_ , Yenna please…"

As much as it roiled her stomach pleasantly to hear Triss beg for her, she knew Triss had showed her enough courtesy not to tease. Her heart pounded as her fingertips ran over the twitching muscles of her stomach, before dipping down into her womanhood.

Triss' arousal was as apparent as hers; she was met with dripping folds which leaned into her touch, her hips gyrating into her fingers like second nature. She explored them, taking time to caress her sensitive bundle of nerves earning her a sharp cry of need from the woman.

Until she traced her opening, hovering there, waiting for Triss to set the pace for them. She wanted this to be done her way, after those bastards left her womanhood battered and bruised.

But she needed no coaxing as she lowered herself onto her hand, her digits finding no resistance as they slid through the tight opening until she filled her completely. The guttural moan that rumbled in Triss chest was enough to soak herself again, the sound echoing in her head.

"F-Freya," Triss choked out as she allowed Yennefer to stretch her fingers deep inside her, massaging the walls of her opening in deep, sweeping strokes. Slowly, her hips began to grind down on her in a gentle rhythm, as to make the moment last.

She palmed her sensitive bud as she ground her hips, and Triss began to sag into her, until she was slumped on her shoulder. The hand she had gripped her hair tightly, her other arm wrapping around her shoulder the best she could.

"Yenna, _oh Yenna_ , you feel so good inside me," she panted as her hips began to quicken their pace just slightly. Yennefer found she liked when Triss was vocal, her voice was hoarse and sultry in her ears.

"Tell me, how bad did you want me? Did you think about this often?" she said in her own breathless voice, desperate to hear more.

" _Hah_! I-I thought about it all the time _, all the time._ I w-would touch- _mmmpf-_ myself, and I would wish…I would _wish…_ "

She trailed off as her hips bucked violently when Yennefer's fingers found that sensitive spot deep inside her.

" _Fuck!"_

"Did you wish it was me?"

 _"Yes!_ Gods yes, it was always you," she whimpered, her voice strained against her heavy breathing. Her hips rolled hard into her, and Yennefer pressed herself in impossibly deeper, and the hand that was once tangled in her hair now clawed at her back seeking purchase in her flesh.

"Y-Yenna! _H-hold me close, please-"_ her voice was cut off by a sharp intake of breath, her hips now gaining speed and Yennefer knew she was soon reaching her crest.

So she pulled her as close to her as she possible could, pressing soft kisses where neck met shoulder. She spoke soothing words to her, coaxing her to her peak in a gentle voice, and it seemed to have done the trick.

Triss' nails dug in hard into her back, and her body stilled it's movements save for the shuddering tremor that began to ripple through her body. The walls of her cunt clenched around Yennefer's fingers delightfully, and Yennefer found the feeling addictive.

A choked sob escaped the woman's lips. "Oh fuck Yenna, _I'm coming, I'm coming!"_

She wailed as fluid gushed into her palm, her body lurching into her with violent aftershocks, and for a moment Yennefer just held her there against her until she recovered. She ran her fingers through her hair, traced lazy patterns on the flesh of her back, while her hand remained between her legs until the sensitivity subsided. She cradled her like her most prized possession, reveling in the beauty that radiated from the woman when she lost herself in the throes of passion, the way she came apart in Yennefer's arms made her mind hazy with lust.

When Triss' body settled and her chest only heaved slightly, she removed the digits from the warm flesh. The mewl of loss almost made her feel guilty.

She wrapped both arms around her and they held each other there, and she let the reality of the situation wash over her.

And she couldn't remember a time when she was _happier_.

There they were, embracing one another at last, in the way they had both had been longing to each night they went to bed. Their touches were no longer hidden, no longer felt wrong. She could feel her skin pressed against her without a hint of guilt or fear, and she only wished they had done this sooner.

She pulled them down to the blankets, and Triss rolled off of her and onto her back. She sighed with content, the smile on her face by far the goofiest yet.

"I still can't believe this is real," she exclaimed, her arm coming to cover her eyes. "part of me thinks this is all a dream."

Yennefer leaned down and nipped at her hip bone, eliciting a squeal from the redhead, "oh, it's real," she assured her. "But the real question is, was it everything you imagined it to be?"

Triss grabbed her shoulder and pulled her to her, pressing her lips hard against her own, "everything and more," she whispered.

Yennefer chuckled deep in her throat and kissed lightly along her jawline before stopping. She hovered in the woman's ear and nipped at her earlobe, and in her deepest, sexiest voice she could, she whispered, "tell me again."

She heard the smile in Triss voice, "I love you, Yennefer."


	13. Chapter 13

Waking the next morning was like awakening as an entirely new woman. It was as though seeing the world through rose colored glasses, but this was actually genuine. Everything felt new and bright, the air smelled sweeter, and her heart held a warmth that she had not known before. Perhaps she was still trapped in post coital bliss, but she knew it was the woman that gave it to her.

The woman in question was regrettably nowhere to be found within the sheets when she rolled over. She pouted, her hopes for going another round of ravenous foreplay gone with her. She wasn't disappointed for long, when the familiar smell of a cooking breakfast filled her nose.

She was _definitely_ getting used to this.

She nearly leapt out of bed, eager to go find her now that their relationship was out in the open. There might be much to talk about, but they could work out the technicalities later. For now, she wanted to remain in her blissful state, as though Radovid and Philippa and Deireadh Prison didn't exist, and it was just the two of them.

The way her heart thudded with anticipation now, she knew Triss would likely take her breath away when she rounded the corner. What she didn't realize is what a terrible understatement that was.

She, nor anyone she knew, had ever understated Triss' beauty by any means. It was well known the effects she and many other sorceress had on the general population, but perhaps it was magnified due to how disarmingly unaware she was of the extent her allure. Her body was shapely and toned, even after everything she had been through. She could see it in her strong calves and thighs as she shifted her weight to one foot as she busied herself with the pan.

She wore nothing but a slip, showing off such a wondrous figure, her mercury hair flowing down her back in a long ponytail. It was the simplicity that seemed to make her skin simply _glow_ , the act of doing something so kind for Yennefer. And it was the beauty within her that softened the blue hues in her eyes, the edges in her perfectly chiseled features.

Yennefer's knees went weak, and she gripped the wall for support.

It was in this moment when she realized she was in love with the woman.

The sound of her hand colliding with wood caused Triss' to turn around, beaming a smile that was brilliantly white, the frame of her figure basked in golden beams of early sunlight.

"Hey," she said softly, before her smile faltered slightly. Yennefer still stood in the entrance, her brain malfunctioning, rendered only able to stop and stare at the woman.

"Are you…alright?"

Triss was worried, probably worried that Yennefer was having regrets about the night before. Oh but if only she knew how wrong she was, how it couldn't be further from the truth.

She should have told her last night, because looking back she felt it last night. She should have confessed when Triss had done so for her, and maybe it was the fog of arousal that had clouded her brain. Maybe deep down, she had still been afraid. After all, it had barely been a couple of weeks and she was already head over heels for her ex nemesis.

Whatever the reason, she had already broken her promise to herself. To tell Triss how she truly felt about her.

Not anymore.

She was across the room in a second and she took Triss by the jaw with both hands, her grip firm and unyielding. She didn't hesitate when she pressed her lips to hers in a deep kiss, and she wondered if she could feel it as much as Yennefer could, the desire, the loyalty, and all the love she felt.

She kissed her with _purpose_.

She parted from the kiss but she didn't release Triss from her grip, not until she heard what she had to say, not until she understood that Yennefer meant it, and she wasn't afraid. The smile was back on the red heads face, as she licked her lips trying to catch Yennefer's taste.

" _Mmmm_ , good morni-"

"I love you," she breathed out, her gaze unwavering. She swept her thumbs along her jaw, trying desperately to memorize this moment.

Triss' brows furrowed, and her tongue went to her cheek and she shifted uncomfortably on her feet.

"Yenna," she sighed, her eyes brimming with sadness, "you don't have to feel obligated to say it just because I-"

"No!" Yennefer exclaimed hurriedly, "please, listen to me." She took a deep breath, her hands coming to rest on Triss' bare shoulders, "I loved you once. You were my best friend, you…you meant _so_ much to me. You have always meant so much to me. When you were on that table, and I thought I was going to lose you," she faltered slightly as a lump of emotion formed in her throat, "I couldn't _bear_ it, Triss, I couldn't. When you finally opened your eyes, it was like I felt whole again, because I spent those days just…just… _petrified_ that one day, I would wake up and you wouldn't be breathing. I was afraid, but as long as I had you, as long as you survived, that was all that mattered. And these past couple of weeks have forced me to confront emotions that I long buried. All the pain, the anger. But the love was still there and then…it just grew, into something else. Into this-" she gestured between them, "-and now I know what this is."

Her voice was passionate, and Triss expression grew more and more incredulous, as though she couldn't believe what she was hearing. Yennefer knew she was rambling, as feelings weren't ever her forte, but she wanted to ensure she didn't miss anything.

"I think about when the day comes that your magic is back to it's full strength. With your magic and body fully recovered, that _would_ be the day where you would no longer need me, no longer need to stay here, and that you would leave," she squeezed her shoulders as the lump in her throat grew larger, "a-and I don't want that day to come, Triss, I don't want it to come _ever_."

Triss' lip began to tremble slightly, and she leaned into Yennefer as though she didn't trust her legs to support her.

"I love you," Yennefer assured her again, "stay with me?"

Yennefer was putting a lot on the line asking such a thing. Sure, Triss had agreed to stay for the duration of the winter, but for good was a different story. Triss had her own ambitions, her own goals, and had her own path for her life planned out before this terrible occurrence. Even all these years when she loved Yennefer, she opted not to tell her and instead lead her own life and was rather successful at it too. She was a brilliant sorceress, and she deserved to do whatever she pleased with her time and talents. Would domestication be enough for her, here in Vengerberg?

She had _almost_ regretted asking in fear for her own feelings, which was why she was so relieved when Triss threw her arms around her neck and suddenly her lips were everywhere, and if Yennefer didn't know any better she'd swear she was floating.

"Gods of course I will!" Triss gasped excitedly, "I love _you,_ and I would follow you anywhere…oh Yenna, please tell me it's true…tell me this is real…"

Yennefer could barely hear her over the pounding in her ears. Her knees weakened, she embraced the woman tightly, and the emotion that had formed in her throat began to spill forth. Alarmed she squeezed her eyes shut, "it's real…"

But her voice was unsteady, and she cursed herself as the tears slipped from her eyes anyway despite every attempt to stop it. It was all just _so much,_ these past couple of weeks had been slowly wearing on her, and she never expected this to come out of it. But it felt good, overwhelmingly so, and the relief that came with it to finally be free to love this woman was enough to break the dam that had been cracking long ago.

She didn't want to cry. She stepped from the embrace and wiped hastily at her eyes, "come, I don't want your hard work to go to waste."

But Triss pressed her hand to Yennefer's cheek, forcing her gaze to her, effectively stopping her from slipping past.

"No, Yenna, I don't care about the food." Her fingers trailed softly down her jaw and Yennefer couldn't look at her any longer, opting to stare at the floor in shame instead. She let her tears flow freely now, it wasn't as though she could hide them.

"You told me it was alright to cry," she whispered as her hand continued to caress her skin, "I understand how overwhelming all of this must be, I think you've been through every emotion there is to feel towards me," she chuckled, lightening the mood immensely.

Yennefer smiled back as she finally met her gaze, "I…I had no idea I could feel this way. I think I'm happier than I've ever been, and all of this in such a short amount of time is admittedly a little surreal. Are you sure you didn't find a djinn as well?"

They both laughed now, and with a final sweep of her thumb along Yennefer's bottom lip, she turned and began to plate their breakfast. "To be honest, I probably would have, had I ever gotten the chance. Geralt was smart in doing that," she said mockingly.

"Hmm, yes, though Geralt never banked on me finding out, and he trusted what he thought was his true love for me too greatly. Turns out the djinn was all that was holding us together. Wretched creatures, I would advise in staying away from them."

"Well, I've trusted in my feelings for over twenty years now, I need no djinn to love you," Triss said with a sultry wink.

"I should hope not," Yennefer breathed back before focusing on her food. She wondered just how much they would manage to accomplish today, now that they were open with their feelings. She would be lying if she said staying in bed with the woman all day wasn't tempting, but she knew they needed to keep up with Triss' practice, and Yennefer with her store.

She had an idea. A wonderful, profound idea, one she was sure would be to Triss' liking.

"I'm going to open the shop today," Yennefer said absentmindedly as she speared a potato with her fork.

Triss smiled at her, "that's a good idea, I'm sure your customers will be pleased."

"I want you to help me."

Triss stopped mid chew, looking thoughtful for a moment before swallowing hard. "Of course…what is it you need?"

Yennefer shot her a cat-like grin. She was sure Triss was being deliberately obtuse, but she would play along.

"You misunderstand, I want you work with me, as a healer."

Triss' expression grew evermore confused, and she placed down her silverware to give her undivided attention to Yennefer, "I…I don't know what to say. You know my magic isn't exactly up to par."

Yennefer grinned at her with adoration. It was strange how Triss' naivety was once borderline infuriating was now found to be endearing.

"it isn't your offensive magic that makes you such a brilliant sorceress, it's your intellect. You can brew potions I had never even heard of, with more accuracy than even the most learned alchemist. Not to mention your vast knowledge of human anatomy, healing properties, and vast array of other topics." She stood to clear their plates, but she could tell by the growing smile on the woman's face that her words were having affect. "Every city needs a healer, you'll do well here in Vengerberg. Together I reckon we'll turn quite the profit."

Triss' expression lit up the room, "so you're saying there's a position available?"

Yennefer abandoned the dishes in the sink and sauntered back over to the woman, before leaning down and wrapping her arms around her from behind. She nipped at the shell of her ear, and a breathy laugh filled her ears.

 _"Mhm,_ as long as you don't mind permanent."

* * *

As expected with such wonderful new feelings, came wonderful new distractions. It had taken far longer than it should have for the both of them to ready themselves, the minutes feeling like seconds every time Triss pulled her to her to press another kiss to her lips. Such kisses would turn into touches, and touches would begin to brim with passion. Gods, it could only be a divine miracle that she managed to get through the early morning without ravaging the woman again, though she'd be remiss if she hadn't paused to fondle her in the tub for awhile.

It was all new, just begging to be explored, and Yennefer knew they needed to continue on Triss' recovery and Yennefer's responsibilities, but she felt as though she would need a solid month alone with the woman in order to sate her blazing appetite. It was both infuriating and exciting, but she knew they would have the time.

Triss had agreed to stay.

This was what she thought of when they finally made their way down to the shop to prepare for the day. She stood at the counter, chopping allspice root, grinning wistfully to herself as she heard Triss marveling at the shop around her, excited to see what she could do with Yennefer's vast selection of ingredients.

She could hardly believe that Triss had tried to end her life not long ago. And now, her voice was filled with life again, the shine back in her eyes. She was looking forward to tomorrow's, eager to see what the new day would bring, and wholly open to trying again.

She thought of their future; they could take a vacation and travel, _Gods_ the places they could see. Once Radovid was taken care of, the world was theirs for the taking. They could do anything they wanted, lived any life they desired, and they would be together. It was something she never had, especially not with Geralt. They were doomed from the start, Geralt would never leave the Path for a life with her, even if he did love her. She couldn't rightfully blame him, he was a Witcher, mutations and all. She only wished she had realized it sooner.

But Triss would follow her to the ends of the earth, and Yennefer found she would do the same. She loved her new life she made here in Vengerberg, and she was relieved Triss wants that too, but if for some reason she had hated it here, Yennefer would have accommodated her.

 _That_ was love. She was foolish to think she had ever known it before.

Heels sounded on the floor, the sound slowly approaching from behind her, and she felt the corners of her mouth tugging into a smile as her heart began to pump harder in her chest with every soft footfall, and it wasn't long before the honeycrisp sweetness filled her senses once again as Triss pressed into her back.

Gentle arms wrapped around her, her gauntlet resting overtop her hand on the large root, while her hand gently took the one that wielded the knife.

"Triss," she husked, her voice wavering just slightly, "what are you doing?"

She said nothing and it made Yennefer's stomach jolt with anticipation. She gripped Yennefer's hand and canted the blade slightly, angling it in a slant before bringing it to root. She applied gentle pressure and brought it down through the stem, slicing through it satisfyingly.

"Allspice root is known for its versatility," Triss whispered from behind her, her voice ghosting along the shell of her ear, and she shivered under her touch. "it's required for a surprisingly long list of forumlae, ranging from potions, oils, deoctions, bombs, even dyes."

_Gods, why does her voice sound so…_

"It's quite possibly the most used ingredient," she continued, and Yennefer was now acutely aware of the heat in her loins, "though it can be very tough. You see the root is strong, hard, and the mistake most alchemist make is failing to bring the concoction to the proper temperature needed in order to break down the properties effectively."

How did Triss make alchemy sound so erotic? Her legs trembled slightly under her weight, and she felt a wetness in her small clothes.

Her eyes instinctively went to the door of the shop.

Still locked.

"if you cant the blade, and make your cuts on an angle, it gives the root a larger surface area."

Yennefer's eyes slipped shut as her lips parted with a sigh. The sound of the blade meeting wood was pleasant on her ears, coupled with Triss' voice that washed over her like fire, her body began to light up along with it. Normally, anyone who dared try and correct her technique would receive an earful from her, but not when it was Triss turning her into liquid with her sensual voice.

Her breathing grew ragged, the pool between her legs beginning to run down her thighs.

"With a larger surface area, thinly sliced," her voice seemed impossibly closer, and she could hear the need that mirrored her own. "less heat is required, thus protecting your remaining ingredients from burning."

Yennefer didn't care about alchemy, and Triss knew this too. It was never about the alchemy.

 _Gods_ , her loins were pulsing rather uncomfortably, and she squeezed her legs together in a pathetic attempt to quell the sensation.

"That's it," Triss sighed into her ear, as the blade continued to come down, her lips were on her skin now and it sent shivers down her spine. "Now it won't take much at all, for it to fall apart _completely_."

Yennefer nearly sobbed as her resolve broke, and he hand wielding the knife shot to the side and cast it away rather aggressively, sending it clattering to the floor. With the other, she sent the cutting board flying, the allspice root scattered and forgotten.

Triss hand had flown to the waist of her pants, and Yennefer frantically assisted her in yanking the ties loose, both women now panting. She had taken a solid stance behind her, and Yennefer was now squirming with need. She pressed her rear into Triss' pelvis, the movement calling out to her desire.

"Oh," came her fully surrendered sigh, choking past her lips as her hand plunged into her trousers, not even bothering to remove them first. It was raw, it was desperate, it was animalistic.

She dove down behind her cotton small clothes, her elegant fingers finding her soaked core while Yennefer was still fumbling with the remainder of the lacings. She tugged them open and felt the relief of the looser clothing, giving Triss better access to her heat.

"Fuck," Triss growled as she plunged her digit deep inside her, her voice low and predatory. It was unlike Triss' usual demeanor, and Yennefer didn't mind at all. She wanted Triss to take her. Yennefer nearly lost her footing as her heavy panting rang through the air, matching the rhythm of her rocking hips.

"Oh Gods _, Oh-_ " she choked out as she collapsed forward, her forehead now resting on the cool wood of the table. The arm holding her up by the waist was firm, unyielding. "I-I won't last l-long-"

"Then I'll make you come again." Triss reasoned, and she picked up the pace as she forced another digit inside her, drawing out a loud wail from Yennefer as she pounded into her. Her rear pressed harder into Triss crotch every time Triss pumped her hand, and she knew Triss was enjoying it by the way her own breaths came out ragged and short, the way it impacted her movements.

There was a scream building inside her, she could feel it deep within her belly, in the way her back began to arch and her chest began to swell, like a lion preparing to roar. And she released it in the form of Triss' name, and she barely registered the feeling of Triss' fingers exiting her in order to catch her convulsing body from collapsing to the floor.

But Triss wasn't done; Triss had grabbed her by the breast with her gloved hand, urging her upwards, to keep standing. Yennefer was still whimpering as her orgasm sent violent aftershocks through her body and down to her legs, and she found she could not support her own weight. So she leaned back into her, until the back of her head now rested on Triss' shoulder. Triss was stronger than she looked, and she managed to hold her there, tipping her back and supporting her weight with her body.

Triss' hand was still in her pants, and was now rubbing gentle circles along her bundle of nerves. Yennefer stretched out, her arms coming over her head as though reaching for the ceiling, but instead they dropped down and bent at the elbow, and her hands found Triss' hair. She purred as her eyes slipped shut, rocking into the beautiful red head still behind her. She was completely and utterly satisfied, but it only lasted a moment, only until Triss' teeth sunk into her collarbone.

Her legs still shaking, Triss knew this for she took them both now away from the table, until Triss' back crashed into the wall behind them. The extra support was all she needed to take back the control of her movements, and began to set another pace for the both of them. Yennefer was amazed at how impossibly wetter she seemed to be after Triss made her come the first time. In a flash Triss was inside her again, and the fire was back with a vengeance. Her spine thrashed but Triss held her firmly, holding her in place with the pad of her thumb on her clit, using the hold to massage her deeply.

Her moans came out erratically, her sighs growing louder whenever she grew fond of a particular spot found by the redhead. She whined softly at the speed in which Triss' fingers pulsed inside her, her breath hitching each time they grazed that sweet spot. Her hands were still tangled in Triss' hair scratching and pulling at her scalp.

" _Triss-Gods_! This-this-"

Her incoherent babbling had Triss chuckling in her ear, the sound made her feel good. Her nipples pressed uncomfortably into fabric, and she wondered if Triss felt the same as she fucked her so uninhibitedly.

She was overcome by the urge to face the woman, to kiss her lips, to witness the expression on her face as she made her come undone. So she detached her hands from her hair and gripped her wrist, cementing the skilled hand in her pants as she turned in the embrace.

Triss eyes were hooded and brimming with lust, her pupils dilated into black holes that swallowed Yennefer up as she gazed into them. Triss' gauntlet went to her shoulder as she pushed forward and turned them, until they had switched positions and now Yennefer's back was to the wall.

And Triss returned to her rhythm with new vigor, pounding into her so hard that Yennefer had to wrap a leg around her waist in fear that she would collapse completely. She smacked into the wall with every motion, her spine beginning to bruise but she found she enjoyed the pain immensely. She loved how raw they were being, it was messy, and that turned her on the most.

Yennefer's kiss was as hungry as was her swaying body, and she had been teetering on the edge for a little while now, Gods she was sure if Triss simply bit her lip right now that she would probably come, and she would be spent.

But to her dismay, Triss didn't do that. To add to her disappointment, the hand in her pants slowed and she knew it wouldn't be long before it removed itself completely.

But Triss was sliding down to her knees, and the hand that removed itself now hooked on the loop of her belt, and her small clothes went down with the leather.

She gasped as she could see her arousal dripping from here, she saw Triss watching it, the way she licked her lips hungrily. And Triss looked so good down there on her knees, kneeling there for Yennefer, eager to please her. Yennefer was aware that it still wouldn't be long, one more touch from her lover and she was sure she would fold, and she dropped her hands to Triss' shoulders with a pleading look in her eye.

But Triss already knew.

She helped brace Yennefer as she placed the gauntlet on her rear, and she whimpered as the cool metal soothed her burning skin, while her other hand ran up her thigh possessively.

In a swift motion she plunged inside her, while her tongue flattened against her clit, and her fingers ran so deep it caused white light to explode behind her eyelids. One lap of her tongue, one thrust of her wrist, and Yennefer plunged from that edge.

" _Uhhnngh_!" her cry was strangled and slightly frustrated, unsure of what to do with her weakened body, and her palms went to the wall in a desperate attempt to keep herself upright until Triss could scramble from the floor and support her.

She wrapped her arms around the redheads neck, her breath heaving in shuddering gasps as she rode through her orgasm. She felt a trail of burning kisses running up the length of her neck, pressing behind her ear, and slowly unraveled her leg from Triss' waist and tested her weight on shaky legs.

Still gripping the wall, she found herself stable albeit slightly unsteady. Her face was scarlet as she met Triss' gaze, suddenly feeling very fatigued in the most pleasant of ways, but it was mixed with a slight humiliation. Yennefer knew she enjoyed being the dominant one, so to have someone take her in such a violent and possessive way was much different than she was used to. To stand here, a wet trembling mess, too weak to even trust herself to leave the woman's arms was strange, but she found she enjoyed it, if the juices still dripping from her were any indication.

Triss made her feel like an entirely new woman.

And she was so sweet about it all, the way she cradled Yennefer close to her, her eyes soft and filled with love as she peppered kisses along her jaw. She didn't make Yennefer feel weak, she wasn't teasing. Her actions were that of adoration for Yennefer's body, for her pleasure.

"Why don't you go clean yourself up," she whispered softly into her neck, "I can finish the prep."

Yennefer could only nod dumbly, melting into the soft kiss that Triss had pressed into her lips, before it was all over too soon. She smiled prettily as she slowly stepped from the embrace, before turning to clean up the chaos they had created at the table.

Her body felt numb as she pushed herself from the wall and headed upstairs to clean her thighs that had begun to grow sticky, and change her clothes that were now in ruin. Her heart still thudded madly even though the adrenaline had now wore off, and she realized it was not from the climax.

It was love. She was fully and madly in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeaaaahh that allspice root shit was just some made up bs that sounded hot. Hope you liked it :D


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! A few notes today :)
> 
> Firstly, I didn't make it clear, but my Triss is a mix of Canon and games, (blue eyes, red hair, I know I know idk what I'm doing), and Yennefer is based solely on games.
> 
> Secondly, you'll be delighted to know that when I'm done this fic I'll be doing another Trissefer fic! This time Triss POV, I'm thinking of doing a retelling of TW3 starting with Triss' arrival at Kaer Morhen. Maybe include the infamous tying Geralt to the bed scene? Lemme know what you all think!
> 
> Lastly, these next few chapters will really dive deep into the characters psyche, lots of hurt/comfort with a dash of angst, really focusing on the ladies getting to know each other all over again. I hope you all enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing!

She adjusted the choker around her neck before giving herself a once over in the mirror now that she had straightened herself out. Her cheeks still held a subtle redness, the only evidence of what just transpired. She couldn't help the wistful sigh that escaped her lips, her body still abuzz with a pleasant euphoria like she had never known before.

She tried to keep her face stoic when she returned to the shop, resting her hands on her hips and glancing around as though she actually cared about the shop prep. Triss had turned upon her entry, shooting her a smile that lit up the room.

"Everything's done," she said as she clapped her hands together, her eyes scanning over her work. "Sooo…I guess this is it?"

It amused Yennefer to witness Triss return to her shy, hesitant self, after she had taken such a drastic turn in personality not long ago. She couldn't help but wonder what else there was to discover about the woman, her quirks, her traits. She was eager to learn more.

She approached Triss with a reassuring smile and took her hands, "This is it. You're going to do great."

Triss worried her lip and glanced to her prosthetic, still cradled in Yennefer's hand. "What if someone asks?"

Yennefer leaned forward and kissed her forehead, "then you tell them whatever you wish. Though, I would suggest just being honest. The people here hate Radovid as much as we do."

Her smile was nervous, but excited all the same, "alright."

"One more thing," Yennefer said as she moved past her. She went to the other side of the shop and began to rummage through a back closet. After moving some things around and making a mental note to give the shop a proper cleaning, she found what she was looking for.

A slab of oak, smooth and unmarked. She brought it to the table and rested it on the surface, smirking at Triss as she brought the tip of her finger to the wood.

She traced a delicate pattern, and she felt Triss' presence beside her as the wood came to life. Slightly delayed, the words began to take shape, as though burned into the wood. In a way, it was, through her magic. Her finger traced in long, sweeping motions, the writing a beautiful, elegant cursive, and when she was finished she held up the piece to admire her work.

_Healing services now available_

_By Triss Merigold of Maribor_

She felt Triss nearly bounce beside her as her hand flew to her mouth in disbelief. "I know I've said this nearly a dozen times, but I can't believe this is really happening. I can't thank you enough for this opportunity, Yenna."

She snaked an arm around her lovers waist and pressed a tender kiss to her temple. "Believe it, I imagine once word travels you're going to find yourself rather busy."

She slipped away and made for the door, stopping to gesture at one of the desks, "you can set up here."

Triss smiled and made her way there, the sound of her setting up her various supplies filling the quiet room, paired with the howl of the wind outside. She peered out of the front window before committing to going out, and while the wind was strong the sky remained clear thus far. Her smile fell slightly when she noted the looming storm clouds in the distance, signaling another helping of the cold white stuff. Hopefully it would hold off until the end of Triss' practice, after that she wouldn't care. She would gladly curl up with the woman and create their own heat in the evening.

The bells chimed when she opened the door, stepping outside to fix the new sign to the window. As expected, the busy square seemed to halt in motion at the sound and sight of her emerging once again, and it wasn't long before men and women alike suddenly whispered and murmured to their respective companions, an excited buzz rippling through the square.

A smile played on her lips as she watched some turn tail, assumed to be rushing back to their homes to fetch their loved ones or their coin purses, while others already began to approach.

"Madam Yennefer!"

She nearly jumped out of her skin at the shrill voice that sounded behind her, and she turned to find a frail old lady, nearly two heads shorter than she was. She clutched her shawl close to her, her fingers trembling in the cold. She didn't recognize the woman, but Vengerberg was large and she supposed the woman had never required her services until now.

"Yes?" she asked, taking a moment to peer over her head to the growing lineup behind her.

"Oh Madam Yennefer, is it true? Your shop now offers healing services?"

She smiled warmly at the feeble old woman with hope shimmering in her eyes, "That's right. Triss Merigold of Maribor and I have entered into a partnership. Her services will be a permanent fixture in Vengerberg."

Excitable gasps broke out in the queue, and Yennefer couldn't help but smirk to herself as she imagined the amount of money they were going to bring in together. Once word got to the army, it would be doubly so.

Her gaze went back to the woman, "please, come in."

She opened the door and directed her to where Triss was sat, looking beautiful as ever, as powerful as ever. Their eyes met briefly, and she could see everything that Triss wasn't saying. It was the gratitude, the independence, the drive that she had been sorely lacking. It was everything her trauma wasn't, it was a look reserved for the living.

She beckoned another customer inside, while simultaneously trying to catch pieces of Triss' conversation with the woman. Something about her crippling arthritis, rendering her daily tasks too much to bear, such a common occurrence with the aging that was man. She was thankful she would never have to endure such devastating effects as a sorceress, along with the many other ailments she saw to on a daily basis. And neither would her lover, they still had so much time.

Triss answered the woman with kind words, but there was an air of confidence that was not present before. It reminded her old self, the one that alone orchestrated the liberation of the mages in Novigrad, the woman who advised Kings. The sorceress who died upon that hill and rose from the ashes, death itself couldn't even take her. Even if she was just a simple village witch along with Yennefer now, it was apparent in the way she carried herself, and Yennefer wanted nothing more than to let herself believe that Triss was truly herself again in this moment, as though the gauntlet wasn't there, that everything was real and wonderful again.

It _was_ wonderful again.

She escorted her current patron back to the street once taken care of, and as she waved through another her eyes were drawn back to the storm clouds that hung in the distance like a looming threat that was watching, waiting to unleash it's chaos on those unsuspected, those who think they have not a thing to worry about.

Her stomach knotted unpleasantly as she crossed the store once again, her eyes wandering to Triss, wandering to the charcoal storm clouds as she made the loose connection between the two. She watched Triss' smile and how easily it played on her lips when she interacted with their customers, with children and women and men. Her voice was smooth and devoid of fear or anger, and it was the fear buried in Yennefer's own chest that squeezed at her heart and made her lungs feel heavy and strained. The cold icy grip that served as a reminder that soon her smile would disappear and be replaced with something that was _not_ this Triss she knew.

It could hardly be blamed; when Yennefer thought of Radovid and his cold stare and bloodstained hands, she too could feel her own skin begin to change, and she already knew of the monster she could very easily become in his presence. She didn't care if she was above her temper or not, she could sleep soundly with the idea of losing control.

But could Triss?

Yennefer was nearly overwhelmed with the urge to protect the woman before her, to keep her safe from the jaws of the world around them, shield her from having her flesh stripped further by such a world that doesn't care. But it wasn't plausible. Triss was more than capable of taking care of herself, she couldn't be overly protective with her no matter how great the need may feel, that was not her place. Triss too was aware of the dangers that lurked in the dark, perhaps more aware than anyone.

But the prospect of her smile disappearing again, the idea that she could become the monster she never deserved to be, was almost enough for her to dispel her own common sense and do it anyway. She didn't want Triss to see Radovid. She wanted to put as much distance between the two if it were possible. She didn't want him to steal her smile again.

She tried to hush her internal monologue and focus on the task at hand, on this day, on the smile that was still here _now_. Things _were_ wonderful again, they would remain so, right? She couldn't let her protective nature dictate how Triss lived her life. She couldn't deny the woman her revenge she so aptly deserved.

Even if it made her hard again.

She tried to lose herself in the mornings events; it was strange how the day had began on such a positive note, yet Yennefer's headspace managed to convince her otherwise. But she was a worrier by nature, and she couldn't help but feel as though things were going _too_ well, that it was too easy to up and say that things were suddenly better now.

But she smiled nonetheless, and before long the anxiety had been pushed to the recesses of her mind. She and Triss played off of each other well, whenever Yennefer didn't have a customer she would assist in preparing whatever it was Triss needed and vice versa. With the two of them there, they were able to see double the patrons, all whom left more than satisfied with their service.

It was clear that the people of Vengerberg adored the new addition as well. Triss had a way with speaking to people, she was completely and utterly charming, she exuded the sweetness that Yennefer lacked, which was probably why they worked so well together, the whole idea that "opposites attract."

It was almost too easy to get lost in watching her work, she could only hope it wasn't too obvious to the patrons she was supposed to be giving her undivided attention to. She couldn't help herself, it was almost fascinating to watch her open up again from the outside. To see how she interacted with the public, the way her eyes were soft yet engaged, and the genuine happiness that radiated from her just to be doing _something_ again.

She watched as Triss splinted a young man's wrist, the way her hand moved around the limb with expertise, while her gauntlet held the wrist steady. One would never assume that she had such a handicap, not with how fluid her motions were, and Yennefer wondered if Triss might have forgotten the missing extremity herself.

As expected the morning had escaped them in the blink of an eye; it had slowed down some, now that the morning rush was over, and to both their pleasures they actually had a moment alone.

Naturally, she sauntered over to where Triss was still seated and stretching high above her head. Her hands found the woman's shoulders and began to massage the muscles deeply, while Triss purred and tilted her head to receive Yennefer's kiss.

"How do you like your new job?" she said in a low voice as she watched Triss resume tidying up her area.

"It's the second best thing to happen to me," she said with a smile in her voice. She turned to face Yennefer again, "next to you."

"You look happy, and the villagers adore you. It seems so…natural."

Triss shrugged and rewarded her with another dazzling smile, and Yennefer had to resist the urge to kiss her again. "I was a little nervous at first…people definitely noticed, I couldn't exactly do _everything_ without a little difficulty, but surprisingly nobody mentioned it."

Yennefer snorted. "They probably feared I would strike them with lightening had they said anything."

Triss' laugh was like music, and she swatted her arm playfully. "Not true, they love you."

"That may be, but that doesn't mean I don't intimidate them."

Triss took her hand from her shoulder and pressed a delicate kiss to her palm. "Yeah, but you love that. I love how you protect me, but you needn't decimate anyone on the spot for me dear."

Yennefer gripped her jaw gently and continued to pepper her face in chaste kisses as Triss giggled under her touch. "Alright, but I will if I have to."

"Thank you, Yenna."

"I was thinking I could go up and prepare dinner, put on a stew for us tonight. Would you like that?"

"I would," she smiled.

"You can manage here?"

Triss chuckled again as she gazed lovingly at her, "I think I can. I'll call you down if I need anything."

She gave her shoulder a final squeeze before heading back to the loft. She couldn't help but lose herself in the domestic bliss that was her life now; chopping vegetables, dicing meat into fine little cubes, the thought of Triss enjoying her meal after a hard days work brought her more joy than any amount of life endangering excitement.

She tried to be hasty as to not leave her alone to deal with the shop for too long, but her eyes kept wandering to the inevitable storm approaching. She wasn't sure why she couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that kept coming back to haunt her, and she tried to assure herself it was simply the worry of the dangers to come. Tried to force herself to enjoy this moment instead.

When she had everything simmering on the stove she tidied quickly and went back downstairs. The sound of Triss voice filled her ears, her words light and full of happiness, and she didn't have to wonder who she was speaking to for long.

"Ailbert!" she exclaimed as she regarded the little man, his smile as big and warm as ever.

"Madam Yennefer," he said with a deep bow. "I noticed yer' shop was open and I thought I'd bring ye' by some cleaning supplies for the piece I made ye'. I already gave it to yer' lovely friend here."

Yennefer caught Triss' gaze, her eyes were filled with mirth.

"I was just thanking Ailbert for such a beautiful piece, your talent is truly a gift."

Ailbert seemed to blush under their praise, his face growing a deep shade of scarlet under his beard. "Much of the recognition must be given to Madam Yennefer I'm afraid, she was very particular when it came to quality!"

Yennefer felt her own face heat slightly when she felt Triss' gaze on her, her expression held a heartfelt gratitude as though Yennefer were some divine being, and if she were being honest with herself Triss had the ability to make her feel as such.

"Yes, well, she deserves only the best," Yennefer said softly, said it to Triss, her gaze unwavering.

"I offer my condolences for yer' situation Miss Merigold," Ailbert said carefully as he removed his wool cap. "Those Redanian bastards," he added with a scowl.

Triss offered him a sad smile, her perfected eyebrows scrunched together in her own sympathy. "Thank you, but I'm feeling much better. I'm looking forward to my future here in Vengerberg, you have all been too kind. It's like the people of Vengerberg are a whole different breed," her eyes went to Yennefer, "accepting, generous, caring. The list goes on."

"The city is certainly lucky to have ye'. With the comin' winter there's bound to be sickness. I imagine the both of ye' will be busy, but be sure to make time to see the wonders the city has to offer if ye' get a break in the weather!" he exclaimed jovially.

"Of course, if this is to be my home now I should love to see it."

He tugged his cap back over his ears and gave a prompt nod to the both of them, "its been a pleasure but I best be on my way. We're supposed to get a hell of a storm here t'night, might make it difficult for business tomorrow, better to get everything closed up."

Yennefer chewed her lip, her eyes casting to the window again. "You're probably right, Gods I hate these winters. I'm seriously debating moving to Toussaint."

"Agh, ye' don't belong in that poetry shite hole, you're Aedirnian through an' through!" he jested with a wink.

She sighed deeply, "it certainly appears so, if I'm willing to put up with this lot."

"And we're happy to have ye'," he said cheerfully as he made for the door, "enjoy the rest of yer' day!"

"You as well, Ailbert."

"And thank you again!" Triss called as he disappeared outside.

"Why don't you head to the garden," Yennefer suggested as she began to clear her own area, "get some practice in before the storm starts. I can finish up here, and come and find you afterwards?"

"Are you sure?" Triss pouted as she stood from her table, "I hate to leave you to clean up everything by yourself."

Yennefer waved her hand dismissively, "it's no trouble at all, I'd rather you make some time before that. It could be difficult to get out there again if the weather remains terrible."

Triss gave her a small smile, approaching her and running her hands up the length of her arms, settling on her shoulders. "Don't take too long."

Her voice was sultry, and the deep kiss she pressed to Yennefer's lips still had the ability to weaken her knees. She tasted divine, and for a moment she allowed her mind to be clouded by her lover once again.

" _Go_ ," she said in mock sternness, knowing very well that they would lose themselves in time if they didn't part now. It was funny the way things were now, how suddenly it all came to be. She was sure she would die for the woman in front of her, should she ever have to.

She was rewarded with a final playful smile, Yennefer's favorite kind, her favorite expression. It lit up not only the room but the tight corners of her soul, her very being. She watched her go, all the way until she was out of sight, before sighing contently to herself like some love-struck fool.

She decided it might be best to just close up shop; the snow had already started, drifting down in fat chunks, though the wind wasn't too menacing as of yet. She yanked down the open sign and locked the door, proceeding then to clean up the ingredients of the day. She debated on doing some prep for the morrow, but decided against it. Who knows how snowed in they may be.

She took inventory and began to count the earnings for the day. She couldn't believe the sizeable profit they made together; double what Yennefer normally brought in, probably due to the fact they could now see nearly double the customers. She divided the profit between them evenly, smiling at the heavy coin pouch that would now be Triss'. She knew it would have to be a good feeling for her to earn her own coin again.

Giving the shop a final once over she extinguished the torches and headed upstairs. She checked on the stew, giving it a few stirs and abandoning the coin on the countertop. Excitement began to build as she made for the garden, and she wasn't disappointed by what she found.

Triss had let her hair down; _Gods_ , Yennefer loved when her hair was free from restraint, it's beautiful waves carrying freely in the wind, the red standing out beautifully against the harsh white world around them. Her back was to her, and she had her gauntlet to the sky, conjuring flames from above her to come crashing to the earth. They were rather powerful from where she stood, and she felt the corners of her lips tugging into a smile.

Her boots crunched in the snow, and Triss turned to her then, her face slightly red from exertion. It made Yennefer's stomach do flips in the most pleasant of ways.

"Remarkable," she enthused, raising her eyebrows as she crossed her arms. "Truly, I'm impressed with how far you've come."

"Thanks," she said breathlessly, "still a long way to go I'm afraid."

Yennefer said nothing as she kept walking, amused at the way Triss' eyebrow rose in confusion, which she ignored and continued to saunter to the other side of the clearing. She stopped roughly twenty feet from her, before turning on her heel and cooking her hip.

She was silent for a moment and Triss just stared, the same confused look adorning her features. Yennefer let her arms fall to her sides and focused inwardly, within a second there was chaos crackling in her fingertips. Her lips curled in a devilish grin.

"Attack me," she called to Triss, who began to grin back, though her expression was ripe with disbelief.

"Yenna," she said playfully as she shook her head, "no, that's dangerous."

"I'll put up a barrier," Yennefer reasoned, "I just want to see your strength, don't be shy."

She was teasing now, but she knew Triss liked it by the way her eyes narrowed slightly, her own grin growing cat-like at their back and forth. She held out the palm of her steel hand, conjuring a rather large fireball that burned brighter than any normal flame, lighting up Triss' features magnificently.

"If you insist," she said in a low voice, before hurling her arm in Yennefer's direction. She was slightly surprised by the speed in which Triss' chaos came at her, but she managed to smoothly hold up a hand in front of her, a field of shimmering protection expanding before her in lightning speed.

She felt the impact; she had been ready for it, but she felt it. It reverberated from the push in her hand, travelling up her arm and into her chest and she had to brace herself to keep from flinching. It was shocking how much power had been behind Triss' magic, and it must've shown on her face for Triss was grinning delightfully back at her, looking rather pleased with herself.

Yennefer laughed in both disbelief and wonder, and she immediately through up another barrier between herself and Triss. "Again!"

Triss shook her head but the mischievous smile remained plastered on her face, and she obliged Yennefer again with another fireball shot in her direction. It collided with the barrier with more force than the last, as though Triss was spurred on further each time.

Yennefer had an idea and dropped the barrier quickly, conjuring a ball of lightning in her other hand and casting it in Triss' direction, not overly hard, but to put her on the defensive, keep her on her toes. She had surprised the woman but she recovered quickly, waving a barrier of her own in front of her and deflecting the chaos safely away.

And she laughed melodically at the fun they were having, just the two of them here. And Yennefer couldn't help but think of where Triss might be had she gone with Philippa instead of her. She liked to believe that this method of training had to be far more effective than using the rod. Triss looked alive, more alive than she might ever have, and it looked as though she was confident in her abilities again. Not only by offering her to be a healer with her, but by allowing her to have fun with her magic. She wanted Triss to know that Yennefer would be the chaos for them. She didn't need to ever lift a finger to protect them or destroy those who would dare try to bring them harm.

Yennefer would burn the cities, carry the burden, so long as Triss remained as carefree as she did in this moment.

Breathlessly she went to her, picking her up without warning but Triss went with it, Triss would always go with Yennefer. Her arms locked around her neck, giggling as Yennefer spun them before putting her gently on the ground again. She cut her off with a kiss, she vowed to always kiss her, she was no longer too hard for feelings.

She made everyone else chase her, earn her affections as though she were some kind of goddess, and it resulted in terrible loneliness that she was too proud to admit consumed her. She wouldn't do that this time; she would be the warmth and kindness that Triss deserved, the very same that Triss gave so openly to her.

She would tell her when she was doing well. She would admit when she was wrong. She wouldn't be better than Triss, she would be what she needed. She wouldn't run from her, from herself, all while manipulating those around her. She couldn't ever go back to who she was before. That kind of person belonged down there with Philippa, and she didn't want to be like her.

"You're magic is _so_ powerful," she breathed into soft, heart shaped lips, "you're abilities are astounding. I knew you would get here, I always had faith in you."

Triss nuzzle into her, under her chin, her hair tickling her face softly. "I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you."

Yennefer said nothing, instead she ran her fingers through Triss' hair, marveling in all it's thick and wavy beauty. "I love your hair down," she murmured aloud without actually meaning to.

Triss didn't tease her for it; warm lips pressed into her pulse, lingering there as though feeling for her heartbeat. "I'll wear it down for you love."

Her heart thrummed and she tightened her grip on the smaller woman, her voice was sweet and thick as honey. She was only vaguely aware of how the wind picked up and the flurries around them thickened, and she thought of the warmth of the fire and the fur skinned rug that lay just before it, large enough for the both of them.

"Let's go inside," she whispered as she loosened her grip on her lover, pulling back to meet her ocean eyes. "The storm is picking up."

Triss nodded in the embrace before turning. Her hand didn't leave Yennefer's as she led them inside to the warmth. She shot flames into the fire for them, bringing it roaring to life. As Yennefer checked the stew she could feel Triss' presence behind her. She turned and took her into her arms again, enjoying how Triss smiled into her neck.

"We have some time before dinner," she murmured. "get out of those clothes."

Yes, things were good now, things were better. As she watched the red head saunter down the hallway, she told herself the ugliest part was behind them.

It had to be.


	15. Chapter 15

Things had been going so well.

Too well.

Underneath the stubbornness to actually see it in front of her she had known it all along. Triss had seemingly overnight had went from suicidal to having a thirst for life again with no side effects or repercussions whatsoever. Yennefer wanted to believe that it was real, that it had just been a miracle, and their problems had dissipated as quickly as they came.

But she was foolish and unwilling to be realistic with herself, with Triss.

It came in the dead of the night.

In the form of a tightened windpipe, apparent rather quickly even in her deep slumber. Her body had reacted, knowing something was wrong, screamed at her as if to say _wake up Yennefer!_ Her throat spasmed, trying to clear the obstruction, but it wasn't her throat that was the problem.

This was when her full consciousness took hold and she opened her eyes, her instincts taking over as her body understood that they were now reacting to a very real threat. She felt before she saw it; the nails cutting deep into the flesh of her throat, the heartbeat in the palm that pushed forcefully on her windpipe, constricting tighter and tighter with the purpose to kill.

Her first reaction was to strike, and she felt it slam hard into her being, into her intuition. Chaos buzzed under her skin with such intensity it nearly burned, itching to burst forth from her fingertips as she grasped the wrist belonging to the hand that threatened to crush her throat.

That was her first instinct, and it was there. It was close.

To kill the threat.

It was gone in a second, the second that felt like minutes but it could've only logically been a second cause anything more would've resulted in death. The second that it took for her eyes to register that the threat on top of her, that pinned her down and clenched her throat was not an intruder of the night but _Triss_.

She never would tell Triss how close she came to dying that night, had Yennefer not had that one _second_.

She tried to analyze the situation the best she could given the short time frame she was dealt. Triss' grip was strong and unrelenting, but she could see in her eyes she was not present in time. Once sparkling blue orbs were now nearly black, as though poisoned with a murderous rage and a paralyzing fear that clouded her vision. Her teeth, bared in a snarl, her breath pushing past in labored gasps like an animal.

This wasn't Triss.

She couldn't speak, she tried, but she couldn't. Triss' grip was too strong, too determined, and she could not see this was Yennefer underneath her. Her jaw went slack and no words came out, only a strangled wheezing sound.

Switching tactics she tightened her grip on Triss' locked wrist, and prayed she wouldn't block their connection as she flooded her conscious into Triss mind, pouring herself into her. She could feel Triss' feelings as well, and the first thing she noticed was the weight. The crushing, all encompassing coils that curled around her spine and inside her ribs, filling every crevice of her body, and it takes her breath away as easily as the hand around her neck, and she felt as if she were to cut Triss' wrists now only concrete would be found in her veins.

She held the connection, and called out to her in her mind.

 _Triss_.

It worked immediately. The way her face had abruptly changed from a murderous determination to one of utter horror had Yennefer feeling a strange sense of guilt. The way her hand shot back from Yennefer's throat and she looked at it, stared at it as though it was not her own but that belonging to a someone else, _something_ else. Her face, it was as broken as the concrete Yennefer had found shifting in her blood.

Yennefer breathed deep, hard. She tried not to let on how labored it actually was as oxygen filled her lungs again, the burn slowly subsiding. Tried to downplay how serious Triss' grip actually was, but they both knew.

For a moment neither woman said anything, but Yennefer could see the range of emotions playing on Triss' face. Shock, guilt, fear, shame. Her lip trembled and her eyes filled with tears and she could see she was backing away slowly, slowly, until she was nearly off of the bed.

Yennefer reached for her.

"Triss-"

 _"No._ " Was the quiet reply, trembling and hoarse and oh so afraid. "Yenna, no…"

Then came the strangled, frantic sob of realization as she pushed herself from the bed in one frantic motion, striding over to the closet and began to rip her clothing from the hooks before Yennefer could even register what she was doing.

She jumped from the bed, tried reaching for her again, "Triss please-"

"I have to leave, Yenna!" she nearly screamed, her tears pouring down her porcelain skin tinted with a blush of shame. "I c-can't stay here with you!"

Yennefer gripped her forearms, forcing her to stop what she was doing, forcing her to face her. "You're not leaving Triss." Her voice was firm, she already knew she wasn't going to allow this.

Triss seemed angered by Yennefer's reluctance to let her, "Th-that's _never_ happened," she hissed, and she trembled in Yennefer's grip. " _Never_. Next time it could b-be my magic, and you'd be sleeping-Yenna, don't you realize what I've done? I tried to k-!"

" _Enough_ ," Yennefer warned, and Triss stopped abruptly, her tears now falling silently. "You're not leaving me. You would never hurt me."

"I _just_ -!"

"I don't care," Yennefer said desperately, "I don't, Triss! I can protect myself! I'm not letting you walk out that door, I…I need you!"

Triss' eyes had slammed shut and she began to sob harder, and Yennefer did the only thing that made sense and pulled her towards her, wrapping the smaller woman in a protective embrace, shielding her from the cruel world that fell down around them, that hammered at Triss' already brittle existence.

She took her to the bed and sat her down gently, noting how Triss refused to look at her. It would seem they had recessed back in terms of progress, Triss had broken in front of her all over again. But she was determined to get it back, she was foolish to think there wouldn't be setbacks along the way.

"I had a dream," she whimpered quietly, her eyes on the floor in front of her. "It was Radovid. Radovid took my hand. I remember."

Yennefer felt her stomach twist unpleasantly, and suddenly it made sense. Triss was suffering from her past trauma, much like many of the soldiers do after witnessing the horrors of war. It plagued her mind even when she was happy, lurking like a beast waiting to devour her.

Her dream must have prompted her body to lash out in defense, unfortunately Yennefer had been the unsuspecting victim. She wrapped her arm around her lover, placed a comforting hand on her thigh.

"He said it was a trophy," she continued through a trembling voice, "then he took it. Yenna…what are we going to do?"

She left the bed to crouch in front of her, forcing Triss to meet her gaze. The despair she found within her blue orbs were enough to break her own heart. She took her hand and held it tightly.

"Your acting out in your trauma, which is completely normal and justified. And we are just going to deal with it, as we did tonight. I'm not afraid of you, Triss. I will be there to help you through this, I will never leave you alone."

Triss hiccuped, her lip trembling, "I can't live with myself if I do this again…"

"if it happens again, we will manage it. But I'm not losing you, I'm not giving up on us."

Triss didn't look reassured, and Yennefer couldn't exactly blame her. Yennefer would feel terrible guilt too if the roles had been reversed.

"I'm so ashamed…" she whimpered, breaking their gaze again, tearing her hand from Yennefer's and covering her face. "I can't believe what just happened, what I've done…"

Yennefer ran her hands up her thighs and stood. "This will pass, I swear it. You needn't be afraid..."

She ran her fingers lovingly through her hair as her sobs began to quiet some, when an idea came to her.

"I have something that may relax you. Would you like to stay up a bit, talk?"

Triss sniffed, her face tear streaked and blotchy, but she remained beautiful nonetheless. "Please, I…I don't think I could sleep now."

Yennefer gave her a small smile and bent down to kiss her forehead, "You will."

Yennefer went to her dressers, rummaging in the drawer before finding the small brown box she had been looking for. She felt Triss' gaze on her naked body, and it pleased her to know she wasn't too traumatized to enjoy Yennefer's own beauty.

She went back to the bed and sat next to Triss, placing the box on the bed. She opened it and the smell hit them immediately, the scent of a strong spice though it was rather pleasant in a way.

"What is it?" Triss whispered timidly as she watched Yennefer take a large green bud from the box and set it on a small tray she had stored away inside.

"To be honest, I'm not entirely sure," Yennefer admitted. "The merchants call it 'green herb'. It alters the mind, relieving a multitude of ailments. Stress, anxiety, depression. And it helps you sleep. Gods know I've gone through periods of my life where I practically lived off the stuff. It's harmless I assure you."

Triss watched as she broke the herb into small little pieces, before packing it into a pipe that had been stored in the box. She then placed everything on the bedside table, and gestured for Triss to scoot up onto the bed. Side by side they sat propped against the headboard, pipe in hand as Yennefer turned to Triss.

She held the pipe to her lips, "do you mind?"

Triss nodded and snapped her fingers, a small flame now hovering at the tip of her index. She held it to the herb and watched Yennefer curiously as she sucked back the acrid smoke.

She inhaled generously, halting to enjoy the familiar burn that filled her lungs, before exhaling a large cloud of thick white smoke. The effects took almost immediately, her mind and body filled with a pleasant buzz and she tipped her head back into the headboard.

She watched as Triss took it, mimicking Yennefer's actions. She decided that Triss looked hot while she smoked, and she found a lazy smile forming on her face as Triss coughed at the end of her exhale. She turned to Yennefer, her brows furrowed in distaste, and Yennefer couldn't help but giggle.

"Gods Yenna," she choked out as she handed the pipe back to her, and she placed it on the bedside table. She sighed and leaned back into headboard alongside Yennefer.

" _Wow_." Her voice was breathless, but even.

"Feel better?"

"I do, _so_ much better, thank you."

"Good," Yennefer said, thinking for a moment. "Perhaps you should use it before bed, maybe it will help with the nightmares."

It was quiet for a moment until she felt Triss shift beside her, "Yenna?"

"Yes dear?"

"I'm sorry." Her voice was flat, the tears were gone, but the sadness remained.

Yennefer breathed hard through her nose and grabbed Triss by the elbow, pulling her down until her head rested in her lap. She looked at her through glazed, curious orbs, and Yennefer smiled down on her.

With a wave of her hand the fire was roaring, and she turned her attention back to Triss. She traced a finger along her bottom lip, trailed said finger down her breast, before cupping the mound in her palm and began to massage it absentmindedly.

"Don't apologize," she whispered, but Triss was distracted. She spoke as though she never heard Yennefer at all, her voice thick with what could only be described as content.

"You make my cunt throb when you do that," she said, and she said it with such nonchalance Yennefer couldn't help but snort with laughter. The herb was definitely affecting Triss, and she reached for the pipe again.

"I'm happy to hear that," Yennefer mused, tilting forward to allow Triss to give her a light. She exhaled slowly, letting her hand wander over Triss' scars, but the woman either didn't seem to notice, or she just didn't care anymore. "I have trouble keeping my hands off of you."

"I'm never going to complain about that," Triss said with a smirk. She took a hit, she didn't cough this time. Yennefer was strangely proud of her. "If anything I can't get enough. It's like the only time I'm truly okay is when you touch me."

Yennefer tried not to read too far into how terribly Triss was not okay.

"I rather enjoyed your drawings of me," she blurted out in an attempt to change the subject.

It was Triss' turn to laugh, her face rivaling the fire as she covered her mouth with her hand in a shy gesture. "Don't make fun of me, Yenna."

Yennefer grinned with her, anytime Triss smiled she couldn't help herself. "I'm not, you're the one laughing. I had no idea you saw me that way…they were beautiful."

"Well, you are beautiful, it's not as though it was difficult," her smile faded then, her brows coming together just slightly as she chewed her lip. "They're gone now. Either at the bottom of the ocean or… _ugh_ , in the hands of one of those witch hunters."

" _Great_ , they're probably having a good time with those pictures."

This made Triss laugh harder, and Yennefer found herself laughing with her, surprisingly.

 _"No!_ " Triss exclaimed through her laughter, "I'm sorry, It's not funny. I really am sad they're gone."

Yennefer knew she was, and that this attitude was only due to the herb she smoked. But it made them both feel better about the situation. The drawings truly didn't matter, not anymore, not when they had each other in the flesh.

"We can make more," Yennefer suggested as she cocked an eyebrow.

"I would love to draw you again," she said wistfully.

Yennefer continued her ministrations to her chest, her other hand buried itself in Triss' scalp. "When did you first start drawing me?"

"Yenna…" she whined, her face reddening once more.

"Don't be embarrassed," Yennefer pleaded, she wanted to know.

She sighed as she relented, "since shortly after we met. I've always drawn as a way of therapy. The things I've seen, the places I've been. I've drawn Philippa, capturing her tightness flawlessly I might add. Ciri, Geralt, mostly everyone I've met in my lifetime. And at first, you were just another beauty to add to my collection," she added with a wink. "But over time I kept going back to you. I'd see you around Aretuza and I would go back to my drawing book, time and time again. I may have put many things to paper, but no one filled a book like you did."

Her face grew solemn, as though remembering a sour memory. "When I thought you died, the addiction only grew worse. I would draw you almost constantly, because it felt as though I was able to bring you to life on paper. When the drawing was finished, the emptiness would set in, and you were gone again. So impulsively, I would have to draw another one, and bring you back to life again and again." Her eyes were distant and sad as she spoke. "I told myself to stop. That it was… _strange_ , and…and clearly obsessive. I knew it was obsessive long before your death, and it remained so even after your return. I know you're too kind to ever say it, but what I did with Geralt was fucked up. It was unhealthy. My obsession with _you_ , was unhealthy."

Yennefer said nothing. It wasn't her intention to put Triss on the spot like this, but she had to admit it was very insightful to hear Triss' recount of her actions. She was surprised that Triss' obsession with her was so strong, yet Triss never broached the subject with her.

"My mind is weak, Yenna," she said sadly, as though admitting a terrible secret. "it turns against me, time and time again. It's doing it even now, with my dreams, my trauma…maybe I'm not well…"

Yennefer traced her jaw, brushed a strand of hair from her face. Appreciated the beauty before her and the raw honestly she so openly gave to her now. "if you're not well, I'll make it so. I'll be the strength for the both of us. I love your mind, your beautiful, complex mind, despite what you think of it. You're not defined by your mistakes, Triss. I can forgive them, again and again I would."

Triss smiled at her again, and she knew she had hit her mark. She meant every word of it, she would always be Triss' strength when she was weak. She had faced far worse enemies than the mind of Triss Merigold.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Yennefer questioned. "If it consumed you the way it did, I'm just surprised at how well you hid it."

She reached for the pipe again, passed it between them.

"I guess that too was my minds twisted way of seeing things. I could deal with you hating me for the things I've done. But I couldn't bear the thought of your rejection, or worse, your teasing, your laughter. The thought of everyone knowing…it was mortifying."

Yennefer didn't bother telling her she wouldn't have laughed or rejected her, for her old self probably would have done both those things. "But you told me here, you showed me your memories?"

"You _kissed_ me," Triss laughed, "I would've never thought in a million years you would ever look at me in that way, let alone kiss me the way you did. Then you took me on that date for Freya's sake. Not to mention your heartfelt confession of your feelings towards me following soon after. I guess you gave me the courage to tell you, though I knew I was still risking a lot."

Yennefer's face heated up slightly. She knew she wasn't inconspicuous with her new and confusing feelings towards the woman leading up to her confession, but she didn't think she was that damn obvious the entire time. "That wasn't a date."

Triss snorted, as though amused that this was what Yennefer took from her speech. "whatever. That was definitely a date."

"Alright," Yennefer conceded. "Maybe it was."

" _Mmhmmm_ ," Triss hummed in amusement as she reached for Yennefer, traced her nails down her chest. "in the beginning, I tried everything I could to get over this… this infactuation...I practically threw myself at Philippa."

"Yes, Philippa," Yennefer drawled with disdain. Her finger traced Triss' breast, and she stopped to give her nipple a slight pinch, enjoying the way Triss squealed uncomfortably. "Do tell me about that strange dynamic between the two of you."

Triss' face was red, but her grin was mischievous as she watched Yennefer toy with her breast, "are you jealous?"

She couldn't help the flare of annoyance that spiked in her chest. "No."

Triss' gaze softened then and she didn't tease further. It was painfully obvious that Yennefer was jealous, but she could read Yennefer well. It wasn't that she couldn't take a jest here and there, but some things were meant to be left alone.

"As you know, she started as my teacher, I her apprentice. Don't even get me started on how devastated I was that you weren't taking pupils, I nearly went through with my crazy plan of showing up at your door at night, pounding my fists on the wood and demanding you take me on. I had a whole speech of why I would be a good choice, convinced that I would be able to change your mind, but I was too nervous."

They laughed together at the image of Triss showing up at her door way back then, stamping her foot and haughtily demanding _anything_ from Yennefer. Gods, she probably would have left with her eyebrows singed off.

"But Philippa was willing to take me. Approached me, even. I had noticed she had been watching in some of our classes-"

"-She's a vulture-"

" _And_ she came to see me at dinner one day. Told me I had potential and that if I didn't want to waste it I should study under her. Naturally, I was ecstatic still. Philippa was renowned for her abilities and I figured she could make me into some grandiose sorceress, one day buried next to the likes of you and her."

She breathed deep from the pipe Yennefer handed to her. She too, welcomed the burn now. "She was _terrifying_. I quickly learned of her ridiculously high standards, and her ability to make you question everything you thought you knew about…well…everything. To this day, I'm not sure if anyone frightens me quite so much as Philippa Eilhart. But she is brilliant, I'll give her that. She's just so…"

"Insufferable?" Yennefer suggested.

" _Disconnected_ ," Triss settled on. "That's what makes her so dangerous. I don't think Philippa feels anything, except maybe revenge. I think revenge is what she thrives on most, because revenge is a goal. And Philippa needs goals. Not love, not hate, not right or wrong. Just goals."

"It makes sense," Yennefer agreed, "she has no bigger goal then reviving the lodge."

"And she ultimately wants that for power. Because with power, she can both exact revenge, and ensure no one fucks her over ever again," Triss said distantly. "But I digress. I think Philippa did care for me in her own twisted way. First and foremost she wanted me to succeed, even if it was for her own personal gain. But she cared for my comfort too, I mean, it _seemed_ to bother her when I was injured or unwell. Nothing emotionally though. If I so much as whimpered in her presence this would anger her, and our lessons would halt and she would throw me out. She taught me that to show your emotions were to show the enemy your weakness, and smart sorceresses would never put themselves in such a position of disadvantage."

"Philippa acts like she doesn't have feelings," Yennefer said disdainfully, "but I'm sure she sits with her demons as we all do. Besides, she sure didn't mind your emotions when she was the one inflicting the pain-"

"I'm sure you're right," Triss interjected, sensing Yennefer's rising displeasure. "anyway, it was actually me that made the first move on her."

Yennefer fought the urge to roll her eyes.

"I know, I know," Triss said when she saw the look on Yennefer's face. "She _is_ a beautiful woman and…I don't know…I had you in my head, and her right in front of me. I was searching for a connection between the two of you, the whole… _uhm_ …teacher/student dynamic."

" _Gods_ , Triss, you're depraved," Yennefer joked, the entire thing beginning to sound rather ridiculous.

Triss' face matched her hair and she swatted at Yennefer's arm, "I'm _trying_ to be honest here, stop making fun of me! I just needed to _feel_ something…and so one day after she was busy scolding me for some thing or another, I just…I kissed her."

Yennefer snorted, "what did she do?"

"Kissed me back. Hard. Her hand went to my throat and she shoved me off her, and she told me to never do that without her permission again."

Yennefer had to roll her eyes again, "she's so dramatic."

"She is. She laid down some ground rules from the get go. That this was not monogamous, and there never would be feelings involved. Of course that hurt, because ultimately I was looking for something _real_ , I was seeking comfort, not release. But that changed over time, because Philippa told me what I needed for me."

Yennefer felt another flare of annoyance at that. "How did she find out about your feelings for me?"

Triss sighed, "she found me, drawing you. She saw it over my shoulder. She told me that she had suspected it, but I don't know if that was her way of seeming in control or not. Then she warned me not to waste my time with you. I was ashamed for her finding out, it was my deepest secret and this woman this-this _teacher_ I was trying to impress has now found out. So I begged her up and down not to tell you, to forget about it. One thing just led to another and we…I guess it was a fucked up way of punishing myself. I didn't want to draw your picture anymore, I didn't want to think of you the way I did. And thus began mine and Philippa's cycle, I would draw you, go to her, and repeat for years."

Yennefer tightened her grip on Triss just a little more. To think, all these years, how much she was oblivious to Triss' pain that all centered around _her._ She couldn't help but let the guilt seep into her bones, even if none of this was her fault. Because she loved Triss now, she wished she could have loved her before.

Triss sighed again, as though with each segment of her story lifted a greater weight from her shoulders, "and now here we are. I've been becoming more independent from Philippa for years now, and I know that this was the final straw for her. She expected me to come back with her one day, to help her revive the lodge. Its what she groomed me for all these years. To watch me walk out of that, with you no less, I just know it has her seething...she will be back here soon I'm sure, for one last attempt, and she won't be pleased."

Yennefer scoffed, "I really don't care about the happiness of Philippa Eilhart. She has her lodge, if she wants to make it her goal to exact revenge upon me she can bloody well try."

She felt dainty fingers trace her jaw, loosening the muscles that had seized there, soothing the tension away. Yes, she always was the one quick to anger, while Triss was a sweet calming blue, a balm that eased the pain that knotted under Yennefer's skin. She would be strong enough for the both of them, and Triss would bring her back to reality when she needed to be.

"Soon," Triss said in a low, calming voice, "it will just be you and I. No more Radovid, or Philippa. No checkered past or uncertain futures. Just us."

 _Just them._ Her tension now gone, dissipated into thin air, she felt light as she leaned forward to press her lips to Triss'. She accepted her hungrily, and Yennefer's heart was full. She leaned back to the headboard and began to fill the pipe again, enjoying the way the conversation flowed smoothly. Every time they laid everything out in the open, things seemed to get better between them.

"All of this has solidified my decision to live a quiet life. I look forward to having that with you when all of this over."

"Will it ever be over?" Triss questioned aloud, her voice tight. "Sometimes I wonder if we can ever be truly at peace, or if as sorceresses we are just destined for chaos. It's exhausting."

"At least we have each other when the world inevitably falls into chaos," Yennefer suggested.

"what if it's me?"

"You what?"

Triss rolled to her side, propping herself on her elbow. "What if I'm the one making your life chaotic?"

Yennefer saw the way Triss' smile tried to be playful, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm Yennefer of Vengerberg. I specialize in the chaotic."

She pulled Triss to her until she was sitting up, pressing a loving kiss to her lips. Triss smiled into it, melted into her, as though they were one in this moment.

"This was therapeutic," Triss mumbled in all seriousness against her mouth.

"I think so too," Yennefer whispered back, wholeheartedly in agreement. She pulled back, noting the haze of Triss' eyes in the dark, the dark circles that, while subtle, stood out on her porcelain complexion.

"You look tired," she said quietly, concern etched in her tone.

Triss kissed her again, humming deeply in the back of her throat. "I'm not." Her words were reluctant.

Yennefer savored her lips a moment longer. "You are," she rebutted as she brushed silky tresses that threatened Triss' vision. "It will be alright."

She didn't miss the defeat in Triss' face, the one of acceptance as she moved from her lap and shifted to her side of the bed, allowed Yennefer to wrap her in a tight as she usually did.

"I'm scared." Triss' voice carried over her shoulder, she sounded frightened and unsure of herself.

Yennefer nuzzled into her, "I won't let harm come to you. I'm right here."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

She pressed herself into her, covering her like a blanket. Her lips found her ear and kissed the small space of skin behind it, breathed in deep the scent that was her. She leaned forward and kissed her cheek, her temple, she was everywhere Triss needed her to be, and she would remain there.

 _"I am not afraid,"_ she promised into her skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, they were smoking weed :D


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the maker of "Emotional Baggage by Triss," may I present, "Emotional Baggage by Yennefer!"  
> I also stole a scene from Witcher tv series. Enjoy!

Yennefer's eyes cracked open to reveal a still darkened room. Weirdly enough she was awake, despite the events that unfurled just a few hours previous. She noted the figure still sleeping beside her; Triss would likely slumber later than usual today, no doubt exhausted from her fitful rest.

She debated on curling to her side and trying to force sleep to come to her once more, but Yennefer knew it would be in vain. Once she was up, she was up.

She figured she could at least cook breakfast for Triss today as a nice change of pace.

Carefully, she detangled her limbs from Triss' sleeping form, and stretched them out in front of her. She nearly gasped when the air touched her skin; by the Gods, it was _freezing!_ She reluctantly pulled the blankets aside, the chill assaulting the rest of her naked form as she directed her magic to the fireplace, charging it to a roaring blaze and illuminating the room in flickering orange light.

She padded to the window, wincing as her feet met the cold marble, rubbing her hands up her arms in an attempt to create some friction to warm her. She wiped the fog from the pain and was met with a still raging blizzard. The sky was dark, but she could see the snow billowing in the silhouettes of the lamp posts, the light dulled by the sheer thickness of the snowfall.

Looks like they wouldn't be opening up shop today. Hell, she wasn't sure if they would even make it to the garden.

She shivered again, cursing under her breath as she went to the living area to spring the fire to life there as well. The entire house felt like an ice box.

She couldn't help but wonder if Triss would grow to hate the Vengerberg winters, but then again, everyone did, and they remained here anyway. Besides, it wasn't as though Kovir was much better.

Which brought to mind another issue they would have to soon solve, now that Triss was doing better. The King of Kovir was known to be a compassionate man, but how far would that go? When Triss explains the situation to him, will it be taken as an affront, or will he let her go willingly?

Either way, he didn't have much of a choice, but they as sorceresses didn't need to go pissing off sovereignty.

She would bring it up to Triss later, that perhaps it was time to pen a letter to the good King so he may be aware of what happened to his now missing court sorceress.

It was far too early to consider cooking just yet, so she found herself back in the bedroom, filling the tub with steaming water in order to get the chill out from the depths of her bones.

She stilled slightly as her body adjusted to the heat of the water, before letting a groan of relief air past her lips, the warmth chasing away the cold. It would be sometime before the fire did it's job, and she charged it again just to make it burn brighter. She couldn't imagine what it must feel like outside.

Her scented oils sat primly on the edge of the porcelain, thus began her ritual of adding her lilac scents to the steaming water, soon the whole room filled with the pleasant aroma, and she felt her tension melt almost instantaneously.

She dunked her head and came back up, settling her back against the edge of the tub. She watched Triss' sleeping form, and she allowed herself to enjoy this moment where the woman she loved was at peace. It didn't appear that she was being plagued by her dreams, for now she was in a state of pure and deserved rest.

She enjoyed it because she knew how short lived it inevitably would be. Soon, their lives would be thrown back into chaos, and there was no telling if Triss was going to have another episode at any given time. The twist in her gut came sharply, as she remembered how she felt last night.

She told Triss they would deal with it as it comes, as necessary. What she didn't say was how her near lack of control almost resulted in Triss' death. It worried Yennefer, that next time her reaction might not be timed so well.

It was a feeling she had experienced before in facing enemies, but not her lover. The thought of hurting Triss was out of the question, and it was almost laughable how Triss had been the one to assault her, and Yennefer almost didn't care about that. She cared far more for her response to such a thing in the future.

She rubbed at her temples to alleviate any incoming pain. She felt nothing, it was just habit at this point. She watched Triss, watched as her form rose and fell gently, and the heat that bloomed in her chest was almost enough to chase her anxieties away. She was pessimistic by nature, but she knew she had to try and see the good in the situation. Triss had survived her very near death experience, and despite her setbacks, was actually flourishing in terms of recovery. She had discovered new and wonderful feelings for her old friend, and now they had a home together.

They had survived worse than this. Soon, they could put this behind them.

Pushing all negative thoughts as far back in her mind as they would go, she lathered soap in her hands and began to massage her scalp, her skin. She had remained in the water awhile, magically heating it a couple times along the way. She still wasn't quite ready to face the early morning air until the fire really warmed the room.

Motion from the corner of her eye had her smirking to herself; apparently the red haired beauty was joining her in the land of the living. She watched the blankets stir, the mound under the silks stretching forth as Triss stretched out her limbs, mumbling something unintelligible.

"Hm?" Yennefer inquired as she kicked her feet out in front of her, sinking lower into the water.

"Lilac and gooseberries," Triss sighed, still not visible from her cocoon of warmth. "I wonder just how many have been haunted by that scent."

"Too many," Yennefer chuckled. "Lucky you, you get to smell it whenever you wish."

"Lucky me," Triss agreed. A pair of arms stretched from the blankets and then Triss was sitting up. Said arms immediately went to hug herself around her breasts, as her brows furrowed in distaste to the shock of the morning cold.

" _Gods_ , did the winter come overnight?"

"It would appear so," Yennefer hummed. "We won't be able to open the shop, but I can clear the snow in the garden if it stops. Hopefully we can resume normality tomorrow."

"I don't mind spending the day inside with you," Triss said with a wink as she slipped from the bed. She put on a robe hurriedly and disappeared down the hall, presumably to the bathroom.

When she returned she swooped down to give Yennefer a full kiss on her mouth. "I'm going to cook breakfast, would you like a tea?"

"Cooking?" Yennefer said with mock offense. "Don't tell me you'd rather cook than join me in the water?"

Triss laughed gently, "You'll turn into a prune if you don't get out."

Yennefer grabbed at her robe, successfully untying it making Triss' giggle more. "That's alright, we'll cook together?"

"Alright Yennefer, I suppose I can oblige you if it means so much."

"Thank you, Miss Merigold, you are too kind."

Triss moaned deliciously when she first stepped in the steaming pool, and it wasn't long before she was shooting Yennefer a sheepish smile.

"You're right, this is wonderful, and I may never leave."

" _You'll turn into a prune if you don't get out!_ " Yennefer mocked, earning a small splash from the redhead.

"Shut up, Yenna," she grumbled as she snuggled into Yennefer. "I can't believe how cold it got in such a short amount of time."

"Has the Vengerberg winters frightened you off?" Yennefer asked with a smirk.

"The white frost itself couldn't frighten me off," Triss muttered into her neck, her breath giving her goosebumps despite the warmth.

"Makes one almost jealous of Ciri and Geralt, gallivanting about Toussaint, the sun warming their armor." Yennefer sighed wistfully. She loved her home, but Toussaint was looking more and more appealing with every winter she endured here. Gods, but their way of speaking served to drive her insane.

Triss was silent for a moment, the only sound in the quiet room was the soft rippling of the water.

"It's going to be… _weird_ , when Geralt returns. Isn't it?"

Yennefer thought for a moment. Triss' voice had came out small, as though she were afraid to speak on it at all. It wasn't as though it hadn't crossed Yennefer's mind thus far; Triss was worried for Geralt's return, and she couldn't rightfully blame the woman either. She and Geralt had been involved for countless years, nearly as long as Triss had held a candle for her. It probably shocked everyone when they had departed from one another after Skellige, many doubting that the sorceress and the witcher would remain separated for long.

Perhaps Triss worried that the Djinn was wrong, and did not break the connection. Maybe she was worried that Yennefer wasn't truly over it. All she could do was pacify her with the truth.

"I'm sure it will all be a little strange," Yennefer said slowly, her arm tightening around Triss' small frame. "Geralt and I ended on good terms mainly for Ciri's sake, though at the time, I was rather bitter despite appearances. It was hard to accept that he no longer felt the same, just like that."

Triss in kind seemed to tighten her grip too, almost possessively. It warmed Yennefer's heart. Triss was rather easy going compared to Yennefer, it wasn't often she witnessed the woman display jealous tendencies.

"I _did_ love him, or at least, I think I did. It can be hard to differentiate what's real and what's false when magical forces are at play. Regardless, rejection was not something I was accustomed to, and I was surprised by how painful it was. Though while it hurt, I like to think I'm realistic. I wouldn't allow myself to wallow in my own sorrows, and so I picked myself up and I moved on." She pressed a chaste kiss to the crown of Triss' head. "Did it upset you? When Geralt left you in Novigrad?"

"A little," Triss admitted. "I thought I needed him to fill a void, and I was worried to be alone again."

" _Hmm_ ," Yennefer hummed into her hair. "Foolish men."

The jest lightened the mood as she hoped and they shared a chuckled together, even if it was short-lived.

"In the end," she continued, her eyes now focused on the fire, as though it made the unpleasant topic any easier, "I couldn't blame Geralt for his lack of love towards me. I couldn't blame him for growing tired of the strenuous back and forth, tearing each other limb from limb when there was nothing left to give. It was I, that drove him away."

She felt Triss pull away slightly, her eyes indefinitely locked on her now, but she found it difficult to turn her head to meet her gaze, yet the words kept coming anyway.

"I guess I always considered myself rather…" she swallowed hard, " _unlovable_. I don't know…perhaps it began with the twist in my spine and the slack in my jaw…"

She was surprised by the sensation of lead that spread throughout her chest and pooled in her stomach as she spoke. It wasn't as though this was the first time she's thought about it; she was well aware of her negative aura, her difficulty to get along with. Why would love be any different? For some reason admitting it aloud to Triss made her realize how much it actually bothered her, even if she only had herself to blame.

"Is that what you think of yourself?" Triss asked quietly, her hand coming to rest on Yennefer's thigh under the water. "That you're unlovable?"

 _"Please,"_ Yennefer scoffed, her gaze still on the fireplace, "I was hardly even _likeable_. I offered no tenderness, no warmth. One can only put up with such frigidness from the one whose supposed to love them most for so long."

A soft hand, gentle and in no way forceful, came to her jaw then. Tentatively, it pulled, turning Yennefer's head so she would meet her gaze. Her blue orbs shone with concern, disbelief, but they held no judgements.

"Explain how I've loved you, for nearly half of my life now. How Ciri loves you, like you're her whole world, someone she looks up to with complete and total adoration. Love has never, _ever_ come so easy to me. The unrequited aspect proved difficult, but actually loving you came naturally. It was the easiest thing in this world."

She ran a thumb across Yennefer's lip, the contact was electric.

"I suppose I still feel like that girl," Yennefer breathed, her voice wavering slightly. "The one with the crooked shadow, clawing at me from the inside. That all of this-" she gestured vaguely to herself, "-isnt real. And I know that all sorceresses remake their image in one way or another...but I literally hacked pieces off of myself. Everything I am, everything you see before you, there's nothing authentic about it. And maybe that's it? Maybe, deep down, under the alterations and the makeup and the clothes, I really am…just… _ugly_. How could one love someone like…"

_Like me._

She was embarrassed, almost immediately, by how pathetic she sounded. Even more so by the tears that sprang to her eyes, as uncommon of an occurrence as that was. She never spoke like this to anyone before, especially another sorceress, and she desperately wished she could take the words back out of the air.

Yennefer of Vengerberg, the self-loathing broken woman with a heart as twisted as her spine.

Triss did something that took her slightly off guard. Her palm came to her face, and with the tips of her elegant fingers she oh so gently touched them to Yennefer's eyelids, lowering them until they were closed. The act made her pooled tears stream down her face, and she hated it, but a curious sensation soon took over.

Soft, caring lips, Triss' lips, pressed achingly slow to her eyes. She started with one, then moved on to the other. Her warm mouth followed the tear tracks down her cheeks, capturing all that threatened to fall.

"You speak of your current appearance as something that is inauthentic, flawed in it's own right," Triss started, her voice as soft and soothing as her touch, and Yennefer dared to open her eyes again. "But these things you speak of are purely aesthetic. This included the curve of your spine and the slack of your jaw. This includes the beauty that you have been sculpted into, the one people have come to know today. You aren't your flowing raven hair or the perfection that is your features, but you're also not the twist in your spine. Both of these 'versions' of you are just skin, they don't matter…"

She kissed Yennefer then, whether it was because she wanted to, or she could tell Yennefer needed it, she didn't know.

"You're beautiful, Yennefer. Easily the most beautiful woman I've met. Not in your lips, or your eyes or your figure. In your mind, in your love you give so willingly to me. In everything that truly makes you who you are. Wholehearted and perhaps the most genuine, _authentic_ , person I know."

Yennefer said nothing, for she feared anything she could possibly say would ruin this perfect moment. Then Triss smiled at her, so prettily, so lovingly, Yennefer wasn't sure if her heart was thudding madly or had ceased to beat completely.

"I would draw that lonely girl from Vengerberg, the one with the crooked shadow and sad eyes, as lovingly and as willingly as all the others."

Yennefer's breath shuddered when it pushed past her lips. It was healing her to be so open with Triss. Letting her in allowed her to sooth the wounds that still bled inside, the ones that filled her with that toxic feeling of bitterness. Triss soothed her pain in ways she hadn't known, like taking medicine she wasn't aware she needed, and just like that her self loathing grew a little quieter.

She then smiled back as though nothing happened. She knew she was retracting back into herself, even if it was already too late. "I'm sorry, I don't know why our conversations bear so much weight lately."

Triss heated the water, not planning to go anywhere anytime soon. "Because it's _good_ for us, Yenna. We're getting to know each other on a level we never have before. I care deeply for you, I want to know when you're happy, or sad, and everything in between. And I want you to feel like you can talk to me if you need to."

Yennefer smiled, feeling alleviated. "Thank you. Communication has never been my strong suit, as both you and Geralt can attest. But I'm trying to be more open, with you, as to avoid future mistakes."

"You're doing wonderfully, and you're perfect the way you are" Triss said lovingly. "it's alright if there's mistakes along the way."

Yennefer snorted, "don't call me perfect, or I may never change."

"May you never change," Triss whispered back as she touched her forehead to Yennefer's, her words making the elder sorceress blush.

Triss pulled back after a time, looking at her rather curiously. Yennefer couldn't help but feel slightly unnerved under her gaze.

"What is it?"

"Would you…would you consider letting me see her?"

Her brows furrowed, "who?"

"You. From before."

Yennefer hesitated, thinking over her request. By instinct, she wanted to say no. But this was only because Yennefer chose to live her life as though that girl never existed in the first place. This was a lie, that girl _did_ exist whether Yennefer liked it or not, so she began to rethink her answer. After all, Sabrina, Fringilla, many of them had seen Yennefer at that stage of her life, it wasn't as though it was a secret, people just didn't talk about it nearly a hundred years later. And then there was Triss and her memories she had so boldly shown Yennefer. Surely, she could oblige this small request, even if it pained her.

Perhaps, as with opening up the other parts of herself, this could be healing in it's own way.

"I'm sorry Yenna," Triss said sheepishly as she averted her gaze a moment. "I don't know why I asked that-"

"-No," she said quickly as she took her lovers hand, "No, it's fine, I can…I can show you. May I ask why?"

"Oh Yenna you don't have to…I guess it's just my piqued curiosity, to see you before all your power. To see where you came from. _What_ you came from."

Yennefer smiled at her, despite the noticeable spike in her nerves. "That's good enough for me."

"Yenna-"

"I promise, it's alright. While we're on the topic of getting to know each other, we might as well."

She thought for a moment on what she would show her. Then she figured to hell with it, might as well give her a good show. Yennefer wasn't one for doing things half assed.

"I'm going to show you a rather harsh memory. Perhaps one of the most painful I have." She held up a hand before Triss could protest. "I think it might be good for you to see."

Triss' brows furrowed in confusion. "Why is that?"

Yennefer gave her a sad smile, "because you've been there now, too."

A look of understanding came over her, but she said nothing. Instead she watched as Yennefer turned her body fully to her, keeping her hand in her own.

She had a sense of déjà vu as she locked eyes with Triss, seeing as they were in this same position just a couple of nights prior. She didn't ask if Triss was ready, she didn't have to, Triss already read her so well even without telempathy.

So instead she just opened her mind right up to the connection, where Triss was waiting to take the plunge.

_The sun was hot that afternoon, the heat intensifying the wretched stench of pig shit mixed with feed and mud. Flies buzzed irritatingly around her face, though both her hands were full with the heavy slop bucket she gripped so tightly, so she had no choice but to let them bounce off her face and hair, crawl on her skin. Chickens clucked and scattered as she limped her way from the stables, her feet squelching in the heated mud with every uneven step._

_Her back ached terribly._

_She finally made it to the gate, setting the bucket down for just a moment so she could open the latch. Every misshapen muscle screamed when she retrieved the bucket again, but she had to. She had to prove she could do it, even as an invalid, lest she be cast from the only home she had._

_There was the creak and slam of a wooden door being opened forcefully just as she had made her way into the pig pen, and she turned to see the man that was supposed to be her father, his eyes burning with the same hatred and disgust that was always there whenever he laid eyes upon his freak of a daughter._

_"Get out of there girl!" he spat viciously, as he stomped his feet to where she still stood hunched over, her knuckles white as she gripped the slop bucket even tighter. He grabbed for the bucket, to rip it out of her hands. She was afraid, yet for some reason she would not relent her grip._

_"I can do it!" she insisted, ripping the bucket from his hands in desperation. She wanted him to know she could do it. She didn't want to be a freak anymore._

_Her lack of balance due to her twisted posture sent her reeling, bucket in hand. She tumbled back into the mud, the contents of the full slop bucket sent flying along with her, coating her face and down her chest, it caked her hair and stuck in her eyes._

_She sputtered, pathetically. When she frantically wiped the slop from her eyes, her father was looking at her with something worse than the disgust or rage she usually found there._

_It was embarrassment. It was disappointment._

_Pathetic._

_He opened his mouth to say something, likely from his library of insults he kept stored in his vocabulary specially for Yennefer, but something caught his eye and was now looking to the road._

_Yennefer had heard it too, the clopping of hoofs, the turn of wheels in the dirt. Not many ventured to the outskirts of Vengerberg, into the bits, the lowest of the low in society._

_The carriage certainly wasn't from here, if the expertly crafted and finished wood was any indication. The mare itself, strong a powerful, with a coat that gleamed in the sun. But what was most noticeable was the woman who commanded said coach._

_It stopped in front of their house. In front of her._

_Her stomach knotted unpleasantly as her mouth began to dry._

_Yennefer didn't move from the ground, instead studied the woman from where she was, behind a mask of shame and pig feed. Her father stepped over her as though she didn't exist, eyeing the woman carefully as he went to greet her._

_She wore a deep blue dress, black leather boots poked out from underneath. Around her shoulders was a maroon cloak lined with fine fur, she wore clothes that Yennefer had never had the luxury to even lay eyes upon. Her chestnut hair was braided and tied back into an elegant bun, and she approached with a purpose._

_Yennefer couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of her stomach. There was something about this woman, she frightened her._

_"How much for a pig?" she asked her father, and though it was a request, it sounded strangely commanding._

_"They'll be in market tomorrow," he drawled, hooking his thumbs in his belt._

_"Well I'm here today," she said smoothly back, a perfected eyebrow arched._

_He thought for a moment, "ten marks."_

_But she wasn't looking at the pigs. Her eyes were transfixed on Yennefer, who had been trying to inconspicuously wipe the feed that still coated her tattered rags. Yennefer stopped and met her gaze, before immediately averting it. The woman's eyes were dark, almost black, and it felt like she was seeing right into Yennefer's soul, uncovering every pathetic secret that she held, judging her crooked back and her feed covered, slacked jaw._

_Her gaze was unbearable._

_"How much for this beast?" she asked suddenly, and Yennefer felt her bowels turn to stone as cold dread washed over her._

_She looked to her father frantically. He wouldn't consider this, not this._

_He turned then, he too locked his gaze on where she still sat in the mud. The dread grew worse, and her throat became tight. He was studying her._

_Studying her worth._

_"Six marks." He decided, and Yennefer felt what was left of her heart shattering behind her breast._

_"Four."_

_She watched as they bargained for her, for her life._

_"What are you doing?" came her mothers voice from the doorway, along with her many siblings. It seems the entire household had come to watch the invalid be bargained away to some strange woman nobody knew._

_Her father ignored her. "Sold, four marks."_

_Yennefer wanted to scream. Panic welled up inside her, tears soon following. She was too petrified to even speak on her own behalf, all she could do was watch as her life was sold away._

_"Have you gone mad? You can't let them have her!" her mother cried, her voice wavering._

_Them? Who was them?_

_"As I said, sold, four marks," her father insisted, his voice firm._

_He held out his hand and the mysterious woman placed the four marks in his palm. Four marks, for the life of an invalid._

_"The woman's a witch, you know what they will do." Her mother cried, fear evident in her voice. "She's our daughter!"_

_"She's no daughter of mine," he spat, not even sparing a second glance to Yennefer._

_Yennefer finally found her voice, her footing. Through a sheer will to survive, she reached for her mother, frantically stepping as fast as her ruined body would allow, reaching for the woman like a lifeline._

_"Mother!" she yelped, "please-help me!"_

_Her father grabbed her before she could even make it to the stoop. Roughly, he shoved her towards the woman, putting an alarming amount of distance between her and mother, the only person she had. The woman didn't bat an eye, just continued looking on with an expression of indifference._

_Of course she was. She cared not for Yennefer's life. For what she was doing to her._

_She stood in front of the woman, covered in pig shit and feed, her hair a knotted wispy mess and falling into her eyes. She tried to harden said eyes the best she could, though she could feel how she trembled where she stood, surely her fear was transparent._

_The woman regarded her for a moment before turning on her heel. "Excellent. We'll be going-"_

_"You can't take me!" Yennefer screamed, her fists balling at her sides. "I won't go!"_

_The woman turned slowly, and Yennefer felt her heart seize up. The woman gave her a look like she wasn't in the mood for Yennefer's protesting, and it was here she knew that she was going. With every step the woman took towards her, it only cemented the notion that she truly was being sold away to a witch, and she would be leaving the only home she had, with a family who didn't want her, in a world that didn't care._

_The woman stopped in front of her, her eyes blazing. She leaned in close and Yennefer wished she could disappear. She thought for a moment the woman was going to slap her, it wouldn't be the first time Yennefer had been abused just for being who she was._

_But instead her mouth went to Yennefer's ear, and before she could react the woman's breath had ghosted her skin._

_"Egvane navr."_

_She awoke some time later. How later there was no possible way to tell. Where she was had no way of being determined either. She was in a bed, small but more comfortable than the one she had at home._

_There she slept on the floor._

_But she was terribly frightened, terribly alone, and she had no idea what was going to happen to her._

_The room was dark and unremarkable. She noted a dresser across the room with a washbasin. There were other beds in this room, too, but she was the only one there. She sprang from where she lay, going to the only door in the room, the way out. She tried the knob._

_Locked._

_The panic seized her again, though sharper than before. Because before, it was a possibility, but here, it was her new reality. Her heart palpitated in her throat as her limbs went numb. Her anxiety nearly unbearable, forcing her into a paranoid state, she began to scream past the lump that had formed in the cavity of her throat._

_"LET ME OUT! PLEASE! LET ME OUT!" she shrieked as she pounded on the oak, pleading with the door to open, pleading with whoever may be listening._

_Silence._

_She began to sob, the tears hot and unwelcome came pouring down her face, which was still sticky with the slop from her embarrassing fall however earlier. She choked on air as she desperately tried to breathe, and her body felt as though it was shutting down and betraying her._

_It had always betrayed her._

_And she had enough._

_She hiccupped, and shuffled over to where the wash basin lie. She had the intentions of trying to scrub her face clean, but something in the mirror stopped her._

_It was her, of course. She studied the curve of her jaw, the way it protruded so extensively out the side of her face it was a wonder she could even fit such a monstrosity in the mirror frame. Her hunched back, creeping over her shoulder, ever obvious through the wisps of her thinning hair, the tendrils tattered as the clothes she wore._

_The longer she looked, the bigger the hole in her stomach grew, until she was sure she would be swallowed into the black abyss of her own sadness._

_Her entire life had been measured this way. Seconds meticulously melted into the minutes, stretching ever further into hours, crawling into days, and so on, of her life just waiting to be over, begging for the hammer to drop. She was painfully aware of each moment, while simultaneously feeling as though she were drifting closer and closer into a chasm where time would no longer take stock of her, where people would no longer regard her at all._

_Where she would cease to exist._

_The pain was like a river under the deep bedrock of herself, slowly eating away at her, rising up to break through the surface, flooding her entire being._

_Her mental facilities collapsed, and her fist connected with that mirror, shattering it to pieces, shattering the image of a girl the world had killed long ago anyway._

_"Four marks," she whimpered, as the tears ran anew. Four marks was her decided worth._

_Four marks._

_She stared into the washbasin, where shards of glass had collected and now glittered in the weak candlelight, calling to her._

_She gingerly picked up a piece, the largest piece, and as she turned it over in her trembling fingers she caught her image in it once again._

_The image of a beast._

_She sniffled and slowed her tears, filled with a feeling she hadn't experienced many times in her miserable life._

_It was determination. A profound sense of purpose._

_She didn't hesitate to bring the glass to her wrist._

_As deep as it would go._

_To the river of torment under the bedrock._

_A red river flowing._


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the last chapter was a little sad, and the beginning of this one will be a little heavy too. But after that, we have some much needed fluff :) enjoy!

She blanked the memory after that. She figured Triss didn't need to witness her bleeding out on the floor of Aretuza. She gave her hand a small squeeze rather than speak to her, letting her know to break the connection. If Yennefer all of a sudden blocked it, it could cause injury to Triss. The woman understood the gesture immediately and she felt the connection dissipate.

She had been looking at Triss the entire time, but she couldn't really see her while lost in the memory. But now she was really _looking_ at her.

And Triss was staring right back, her jaw slacked in shocked disbelief, the tears running down her face fell devastatingly quick, and Yennefer decided she did not like the way Triss was looking at her.

But then she felt her own tears, falling perhaps even harder than Triss' were in this moment. It was then she noticed how her heart beat so, as though it was trying to jump right out of her mouth, desperately trying to push a sob of anguish out with it.

She had to stop it.

" _Fuck_ ," she cursed, her anxiety spiking ever higher when she heard how her voice sounded. Broken, unstable, as though if Triss blew on her she would wisp away into a million pieces, lost in the wind. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't think it'd be so vivid."

But of course, that was ridiculous. She knew very well how telempathy worked, she just didn't think the near ancient memory would effect her so. She didn't think it would take her back there the way it did, hell, even her _voice_ sounded like the crooked girl all over again.

"Yenna," Triss whispered, reaching a trembling and hesitant hand towards her.

"I d-don't need your sympathy," she choked out, trying desperately to retreat back into herself. But with every word spoken, her voice shook more and more, and the lump in her throat grew a little bigger. She tried to turn away and wipe her eyes frantically, cursing herself for ever agreeing to this in the first place.

"Yenna, _stop_."

Triss' voice was firm. More so than Yennefer had heard since she arrived at her home. She was surprised at how easily she complied, as she immediately ceased movement. Yennefer of Vengerberg, reduced to a tearful mess, feeling like a child that has just been scolded.

She forced herself to meet Triss' gaze as she felt her hand clench around her forearm. Her cornflower blue eyes, still welled with tears, were now a blazing like the heat of a blue flame. Her lip trembled, but she could see how her jaw was tensed from here.

She hadn't seen such life in Triss' eyes in…perhaps ever. Not even during their first night of passion.

"Listen to me, Yenna. I need you to hear me," she said in a trembling voice, though it remained firm as it has before. "There is _nothing_ wrong with someone being sympathetic to your suffering. _Nothing_."

Another crack opened in the wall she was desperately trying to keep up, her emotions beginning to spill forth. She locked her jaw, biting the inside of her lip until she could taste blood, anything to keep the sob in her throat where it belonged.

Triss' gaze softened as she bit her own lip, shaking her head slowly. "Four marks?" she whispered.

Yennefer's eyes slipped shut. She opened her mouth, breathing in a shuddering breath that felt like ice in her lungs. "Four marks," she confirmed.

The dam broke.

She clasped a hand to her mouth, trying to hide her cry of anguish but it slipped out into the open air anyway, for all to hear. Sobs began to wrack her body after that, starting with one, then she couldn't stop it. She was vaguely aware of the arms engulfing her body, pulling her towards the source of heat that was Triss Merigold, into her protective embrace that Yennefer had hoped she would never have to utilize.

She buried her face in Triss' neck, to hide her shame. She sobbed openly there, too tired to try and fight it any longer. Triss had this strange ability to make Yennefer open up in ways she never had before, and yet she wasn't even forceful about it. Yennefer realized it must be because in some way she didn't quite understand, she felt unbelievably safe with the woman now, and maybe part of her desperately wanted to have such a connection with someone where she _could_ open up this way. Maybe she had needed it all her life, but such a connection was impossible to find.

Especially since people had been so utterly _cruel_.

" _Four marks_ ," Triss spat, her voice reverberating into Yennefer's ears, still pressed in the crook of her neck. It was clear, Triss was angry. "You were _never_ worth four marks. Not then, not now, not ever. Nothing in this world could ever come close to comparing to your worth. _Nothing_ Yenna."

She could feel Triss' arms tremble around her with her poorly restrained rage. Her grip tightened around her, she felt how Triss ' hand tangled in her hair, keeping her close to her chest, protecting her.

"You need to know you didn't deserve this. And this wasn't your fault. It was _never_ your fault."

Yennefer wanted to believe her in this moment, had to believe what she said was true. "P-please don't let me go. _Please_." She cringed internally at how her voice came out, small and weak. But Triss only held her tighter, as though trying to hold the pieces of her that threatened to fall apart.

Her own parents sold her away, even if it ended up being all for the best, it still hurt that they didn't want her. Geralt too, walked away. It was hard for her not to think that it was her fault no one wanted her. She couldn't help but feel a little paranoid that history would be doomed to repeat itself, no matter how many memories Triss showed her, how insistent she was on the love she harbored.

"I won't Yenna, I never will."

Time ceased to exist; she couldn't say how long she remained buried into Triss, it was as though the longer she stayed, the harder it was to pull away, and she knew Triss would give her as much time as she needed. The sun was rising now, and she knew they should be getting on with their day. But it was awkward now, as much as she knew Triss would never judge her, it would take her a while to get used to being so honest with her emotions.

So she pressed her lips to Triss' neck, as a distraction for both of them from the heaviness that just transpired. She felt Triss chuckle under her lips, the sound traveling up her throat.

"Would you consider washing my hair?" she asked sweetly. Yennefer knew what she was doing; she was giving something to distract Yennefer, and opportunity to ease out of the seriousness of their conversation. Giving her something to focus on, so she may gather herself.

"Of course," was her quiet reply, and she left Triss' arms and watched as she turned in the water for her. And it worked, it was rather therapeutic to lather her in oils and soaps, her hair always felt so strangely comforting in her hands. When she had finished, she was feeling considerably lighter.

"Come, sweet thing," Triss said softly as she rose from the waters. "Let's get you fed."

Triss stepped from the tub first, offering a hand to Yennefer to assist her. She wasn't out more than a second before Triss was already wrapping her in a fluffy towel, forgoing her own warmth for Yennefer's first. The gesture warmed her heart.

As she brought the material around her arms Triss studied her face a moment. Yennefer felt a little self conscious, her face no doubt blotchy and tear stained, a jarring difference from how she was perceived _ever_. If it was, Triss didn't say anything in that regard.

"You kept your eyes," she stated, a lopsided grin gracing her features. "From before."

"I did," Yennefer smiled back. "And my scars."

Triss took her wrist in her hand and pressed it to her lips. "I suppose we have that in common now. They're beautiful, just like you."

She then grabbed her own towel and began to dry herself. "Let's not put on clothes today, it would please me to be lazy with you and have easy access to your breasts."

"If it should please you so much, how could I possibly say no?"

Clad in nothing but their robes, they padded together to the kitchen, Yennefer trailing back as Triss tugged her forward by their intertwined hands, and for the first time perhaps in her entire life Yennefer felt whole. Every dark crevice of her being that had filled with stone was now driven away with a blinding light, warm and inviting as the summers of Toussaint.

She looked back, beaming at Yennefer. "I'll make tea if you want to start the eggs?"

"Of course."

It was all so domestic, but blissful, and surprisingly exciting. Yennefer never thought she'd fall back into a quiet life, and take a lover with her. Sure, she had needs, and would have met them as she saw fit. But she wasn't looking for love, if anything she avoided it with a fierce determination.

How foolish she had been, to deny herself such a fulfilling life. But it probably wouldn't have been so, had it not been Triss that stole her heart.

Cooking with the woman was fun, but not at all practical. Triss had a terrible habit of distracting Yennefer just when she was busying herself, resulting in some well done toast and slightly crisped eggs, but it didn't matter. She would drop the world itself to kiss Triss just once more. She cared not for saving it anymore anyway, no, from now on she would be selfish.

They were seated after what seemed like ages of cooking, after said interruptions. The wind still howled outside, the snow still falling heavily, but at least the loft was now filled with a comforting warmth. She found herself staring out the window thinking of nothing in particular, when Triss' voice brought her back to reality.

"Yenna?"

"Hm? I'm sorry," she said sheepishly, "I was just looking at the snow. It feels like it'll never end."

Triss sighed and followed her gaze. "It is beautiful though, you must admit. And I suppose I should be thankful, I hear it's worse in Kovir."

"Speaking of Kovir," Yennefer started as she dabbed the corner of her mouth with her napkin. "You should think about sending word to the King. He's going to think you changed your mind without having the courtesy to tell him."

Triss sighed again and pursed her lips. "You're right. Gods, I should've done it sooner. He's a just ruler, I believe he will be sympathetic, it's just…it's a hard thing to bring up. Of course, he doesn't need the gruesome details, though once he gets word that I've suffered an injury so severe it's prevented me from taking such an important position, well, word won't stay private for long."

"Nothing stays private in the Sorceress world for long," Yennefer replied. "But he needs to know. Just tell him you're safe in Vengerberg, recuperating with a friend."

"I won't lie," Triss said. "I won't tell him that my injury has weakened me to the point of failure. I'll he honest, and just tell him that in light of such terrible events, I do not wish to take it any longer. If he thought that I was crippled, the rest of the world will see me as such…and…and I'm not."

Yennefer smiled warmly at her. "That's right, you're not. Though I feel as though I must ask…"

"Ask me what?"

"Do you wish to take the position? I know how excited you were to make a difference there, such a opportunity is one that most sorceresses could only dream of. I just don't want you to regret staying here…I suppose…if you really wanted to, I would go with you."

Triss' jaw dropped in mock surprise, her hand flying over her heart as though deeply touched. _"Awww-_ "

"Oh no," Yennefer grumbled as she watched Triss' giddy smile light up her face. Triss stood from her seat and practically bounced to where Yennefer still sat with a reddened face. Triss nearly squished her cheeks, peppering kisses every space she could find.

"You- _kiss-_ are- _kiss_ -so- _kiss-_ sweet," Triss chuckled, "offering to do such a thing for me. I'm so blessed to have you. But no, that will not be necessary."

She wrapped her arms around Yennefer's shoulders from behind her, resting her chin on the top of her head. "One would think after what I've been through at the hands of corrupt leaders that I would want to change the world now more than ever, but no. I want to look after _myself_ , and make me happy. Taking such a position, at best, I could assist in slowing the rate of the inevitable downfall of civilization, and at worst, get myself killed trying. I want to retire with you, and worry about not a thing outside of our front door."

"Truly?" Yennefer purred as she caressed Triss' forearm.

"Truly. Besides, we have countless years left together, more so if we keep ourselves out of dangerous situations. If we change our minds, we can always move, take on new challenges, new jobs. Who knows what future our lifetimes will bring?"

"As long as I have you in said future," Yennefer smiled, "I couldn't care less."

"Now you're speaking my language," Triss murmured into her hair. "So, what do you want to do today?"

" _Hmmm_ ," Yennefer hummed as she debated the question, "we could play Gwent?"

"I have no deck."

"I have decks you could use."

She felt Triss smile in her hair, "would you let me win?"

Yennefer snorted, "no."

" _Yenna!"_ she cried with feigned mortification.

" _Pfft_ you should know I'm not the type to go easy on you."

"Yeah yeah. What else?"

"We could read our book, bake bread, drink copious amounts of wine if we want to." She walked her fingers up Triss' bicep, before grabbing her by the collar of her robe and yanking her down for a kiss. "Make love, naturally."

"Hmmm, I don't know, I might be too torn up by my Gwent loss."

"You wouldn't dare deny me," Yennefer growled, her eyes flashing mischievously.

"You got me there," Triss purred like a kitten, pinching at her cheek lovingly, the entire exchange sending a pleasant jolt through Yennefer's stomach.

All too soon she was leaving her place where she had settled behind her and began to clear their plates. Yennefer tried to protest but Triss wouldn't hear of it, so instead she enjoyed the rest of her tea while she watched, a goofy smile plastered to her face throughout the entire time, with every word spoken.

Of their brainstormed handful of plans, they decided to go back to bed to read first. They had both had tumultuous night and morning, with not very adequate sleep.

"Should we talk about last night?" Triss had asked when they settled.

"If you want to," was her reply. "But I don't think anything more needs to be said."

This satisfied Triss, who smile was one of relief and happiness, and she nestled into the crook of her arm, resting her head on her chest. She of course insisted that Yennefer did the reading, as her voice was _"so_ much prettier", but Yennefer didn't mind. It had been her role since the beginning, after all, and who was she to deprive Triss of her _soothing_ voice?

It must have been quite soothing today, for it wasn't long before Triss was breathing deeply in her arm, laying still in slumber. Yennefer went with her for another much needed couple of hours, her exhaustion heavy in the now cozy room where the fire still burned bright.

It was nearly noon by the time they woke. It was a relief to see that the snow had finally ceased, though they agreed there would be no practice today. No work either. For today, they would simply enjoy each other's company, and put a hold on all the dangers that loomed around the corner. Today was a day of conversation, of laughter, and exploration. It was a day to have fun.

And she did just that before they decided to roll out of bed for the second time that day, tucking herself under the blankets in order to pleasure Triss with her mouth. Her moans tumbled effortlessly from her lips, the sound akin to only the most beautiful of music, a sound Yennefer preferred over all else.

With her lover spent and threatening sleep again, Yennefer practically had to drag her from the sheets with promises of more lovemaking later. They decided on a light lunch of cheese and bread, with wine of course. Yennefer reasoned it was now noon, therefore, a respectable time to drink.

Now seated in the living area, drinking and nibbling on their spread of food, she decided to bring out her Gwent decks as a pastime. She filled their glasses generously, and watched as Triss marveled over her collection.

"By the Gods," Triss laughed as she inspected every faction. "I didn't take you to be such an avid Gwent player."

"I'm not, I just picked these up in my travels, here and there."

"Here and there? You lie, you have some really good cards here. If I didn't know any better I'd say you _love_ Gwent," she said teasingly.

Yennefer huffed as she felt her face heat slightly. "Alright, you got me. It's…fun."

"You're cute," Triss said from over her wine glass, waggling her eyebrows in her direction. "For a nerd."

Yennefer's raised her eyebrows in a feigned challenge. "A nerd am I? We'll see. Which faction do you want?"

She debated a moment as she looked over the decks. "Monsters."

"I got Northern Realms."

They dealt out the cards and got their hands ready. Yennefer looked over her own, her face remaining impassive but she knew she was about to destroy Triss with the hand she was dealt.

As the round progressed, it was clear it wouldn't last long; much to Triss' chagrin.

"Those damn spy cards!" she laughed in disbelief. "You still have a full hand!"

"Hey now, perhaps I just got lucky. You can try the Northern Realms next." She eyed her hand to determine her next play, when she noticed that none other than a Triss Merigold card was tucked away behind some others. She hadn't even realized she had began to smile devilishly until Triss called her out.

"Oh no, what are you smiling about?" she asked as she took another generous sip of wine.

She didn't respond, instead, laid down the Triss Merigold card and watched as the other woman nearly spat out her wine.

"You're going to beat me using my own card?" she said in disbelief. "Low blow Yenna."

"It's such a good picture of you, I couldn't resist."

"Don't suppose you have a Yennefer in your hand too, hmm?" Triss said as she laid down a Leshen. It made up some ground, but not nearly enough.

"No," she said in mock sadness. "She's somewhere in the deck, though."

"I never understood why you and I are only worth seven, while Vernon Roche is worth ten. There's no way he could best us."

Yennefer sipped her own wine and filled their glasses. The bottle now half gone, she made a note to fetch another soon. "I've often wondered that myself. Perhaps whoever made the faction held a personal grudge against Sorceresses?"

"Then why is Philippa ten? I think they had a personal grudge against _us_."

 _"Ugh,_ don't even get me started on Philippa being a _ten_."

"At least you have an ability," Triss said as she scanned over her cards. Her face was slightly red, the wine affecting them both. "They couldn't even give me that! And it was _me_ who died on the hill and came back. If anyone should have the ability to bring a card back to life, it should be me."

Yennefer pondered a moment. Triss was adorable when she spoke passionately. "You're actually making a strange amount of sense."

"As opposed to my usual nonsensical ramblings?" she shook her head as she laid her last card. "That's it, I'm out."

Yennefer smirked as she gathered her cards back together and handed the deck to Triss. "Here, shuffle and I'll get more wine. You can play the Northern Realms."

"Who do you want?"

"Nilfgaard."

She fetched the wine and watched as Triss handed out the decks. She was warm from the wine, warm from the fire, but nothing compared to the heat that spread through her soul. This day of simplicity was easily the most fun she had in ages.

To her surprise, Triss actually did very well in this game, beating Yennefer out in only the second round. It was worth it to witness the way her face lit up.

"I told you it was those spy cards!" she laughed. She collected the cards back into their respective piles and leaned back on the couch. A small, shy smile adorned her features, and she crept her gloved hand to Yennefer's. "I'm having such a good day, with you."

Yennefer took a moment to appreciate how lucky she was, as she studied the depths of Triss' sapphire eyes. "I am too," she whispered earnestly. "Though, I don't know how much fun you'll be having when I inevitably win again."

Triss grinned mischievously her way, "you're on."

Yennefer _did_ win as was her boast, though Triss didn't mind when Yennefer had cut off her groan of disappointment with a full kiss, pushing her back against the arm of the couch. Triss melted into her, grabbing her roughly by the collar of her robe and pulling her closer, closer, until Yennefer was flush on top of her.

Yennefer grew tired rather quickly of the lack of mobility the couch offered, and the fur skin rug warm and soft in front of the fireplace was calling to her. So she regained the control and pulled Triss with her, together they laughed as they tumbled to the furs.

It was much too warm to keep their robes on there.

After some time they lay in post coital bliss, Yennefer stroking Triss' hair lovingly as their gleaming bodies lay tangled still on the furs, Yennefer's mind asking the usual questions of what she ever did to deserve such a life. The wine still had her body buzzing pleasantly, coupled with the after effects of her climax so lovingly bestowed on her.

"We should bake that bread," she slurred through her exhaustion and alcohol tongue. "We are running low."

"But we're drunk," Triss reasoned as she tightened her grip around Yennefer's middle. "We'll burn it or s'mthing."

Yennefer snorted rather unladylike. "We're magical beings, we won't burn it. Come."

She stood up rather unsteady, taking Triss' proffered hand and yanking her up with a little too much strength. They giggled as Triss flew into her, and together they clumsily made their way to the kitchen. The late afternoon was tapering off into early evening, though Yennefer found she wasn't quite hungry after filling up on so much wine.

"You'll have to heal my head tomorrow I'm sure " she chuckled as she began to dig out ingredients. "I'll visit the market, too, we are going to need some more provisions."

"I'll heal your head," she said from behind her as she got the fire going in the oven. "Are we to open up the shop tomorrow?"

"I would like to," she replied. "As long as the weather holds up. You should make time to practice in the garden as well, you'll just have to clear the snow."

"I can manage that," Triss said happily. "I feel as though it's really growing stronger everyday. Sometimes I feel like it's near normal."

"It is," Yennefer agreed. "I couldn't be prouder of you, Triss."

She had said it with her back to the woman, and she couldn't help the small yelp of surprise that escaped her when Triss had squeezed her from behind.

"I always wanted to hear those words spoken from you. Yennefer of Vengerberg, proud of _me!_ "

Yennefer laughed, "what ever do you mean?"

"In Aretuza," Triss exclaimed as though Yennefer should know this. "I would have _died_ for your approval."

"How sweet," Yennefer teased. "Was I your hero?"

"Still are," Triss whispered into her back and Yennefer felt her face grow warm at the admission. Yennefer knew very well she was a hero to many throughout her lifetime, it was no secret the countless lives she had saved. But something about being Triss' hero just hit differently, as though she were seeking some validation of her own from the woman.

"I could easily say you're mine," Yennefer said slowly as she threw ingredients into a bowl. "Saving me from a lifetime of loneliness."

Gods, what has she become?

Triss didn't make fun of the incredibly sappy line. She just held on tighter. It was these things that made Yennefer love her evermore.

In due time they had the loaf in the oven, soon the loft was filled with the pleasant aroma of freshly baked bread. They retreated back to the living area, where they relived some of their happier memories after speaking on the not-so-pleasant ones. They even played a few more rounds of Gwent in between more glasses of wine, and for that day Yennefer pretended it was just the two of them that existed. That the situation with Radovid was already taken care of, because this was what it was going to be like once everything really was over.

And when the night drew to a close and Yennefer retrieved the pungent box from her dresser containing the green herb, they smoked together in front of the fireplace as Yennefer read to her, propped naked against the couch with Triss' head in her lap.

She wouldn't be naïve as she was before, to say that things were all better now.

But they were wonderful today, at least for today.

And when nightfall came upon them and they were nestled in each others arms under the thick blankets, sleep came quite easily to the two women.

And not a single nightmare was to be had that night.


	18. Chapter 18

Morning came rather quickly, likely due to their uninterrupted sleep. The sun poured in through the crack in the curtains, a weak comparison to the beaming smile Triss had rewarded her with as she teased Yennefer's lip with her teeth. She was gentle in her actions, softly pulling Yennefer from her slumber in sweet coaxing kisses.

When she had cracked her eye open, she wasn't able to appreciate the view for long, for the alcohol she so gluttonously consumed the day before was now seeking it's vengeance on her poor temples. She groaned before she felt cool hands, (one much colder than the other), gently touch to the pain sights, and her groan of pain melted into one of relief as she felt Triss' healing magic seeping into her head.

" _Shhh_ ," Triss soothed, massaging gently into her flesh. "I'll make it better, love."

"Thank you " she breathed as she melted into the touch. They remained there for a couple of minutes, until Yennefer's headache had subsided completely, leaving no trace of any alcohol consumption whatsoever. Triss really was a talented healer, Yennefer only ever managed to make her own headaches worse.

She opened her eyes again and allowed them to adjust on the beauty before her, before her brows knitted in confusion. Triss had already completely readied herself for the day; her makeup flawless, dressed in her blue gambeson and tight leather pants, hair down and styled beautifully. As her other senses began to kick in, she noted the house was filled with the scent of a cooked breakfast.

"How long have you been up?" she questioned, sounding more accusatory than she meant to.

Triss chuckled as she gazed down on her from the edge of the bed, her blue eyes shimmering like sapphires in the natural light. "Oh, a couple of hours now. You sleep late when you drink."

"I do," Yennefer sighed apologetically. She sat up and noted the steaming tub, filled and scented just for her. She shot Triss an apologetic smile to go with her sigh, but she hoped she conveyed her gratefulness as well.

"Breakfast is almost ready, and I've taken care of the shop prep as well. Ready yourself and come eat " she said lovingly.

Yennefer was too astonished to catch the end of her sentence. "Wait-you've done the shop prep? _And_ breakfast? Triss…"

Triss waved her hand dismissively, " _ah ah_ I won't hear of it. You've been taking care of me upwards of a month now, it's time I returned the favor. Has anyone ever thought to take care of you before?"

Yennefer thought a moment. "Yes, me."

"Point proven. Get yourself washed up before your food gets cold."

Yennefer blushed, smiling to herself as she watched Triss leave the room. It felt a little strange, having someone so _present_ in her life, a constant and secure relationship that wasn't endlessly drifting in and out. And to be spoiled by another, who would have thought? Yennefer certainly spoiled herself plenty, but to have someone else do it just because they wanted to, well, it made her feel a lot warmer than when she made frivolous purchases.

Yennefer already knew it was going to be a good day, how could it not? Of course, she hadn't thought that when she first woke up, not until Triss soothed the pulse in her skull. But now, the sun was shining, Triss was happy, and Yennefer was ready to face it with her infectious optimism.

Optimism. That was a new feeling, too.

When she finished readying for the day, she found Triss in the kitchen plating their food. She had nearly forgotten about Triss' coin pouch she had abandoned on the counter, and took it as another win for the day when she saw the way Triss' eyes lit up when she handed it to her. Triss of course insisted her first purchase would be a gift for Yennefer, who tried to insist but failed miserably. Besides, she'd be lying if she said she wasn't curious to see what Triss would come up with, she considered herself rather difficult to buy for.

Anything that came from Triss would be cherished, she hoped the woman knew this.

After breakfast she followed her to the shop, and Triss did not disappoint. She clearly had been paying very close attention to what Yennefer had shown her in just one day. It wasn't as though Triss couldn't use her head and set up a shop for magic and healing with ease, but she respected that Yennefer was a particular person, and Yennefer appreciated her efforts this morning.

"Thank you," she had said suddenly, before she went to open the door to the patrons. "For everything this morning. And before."

Her words were short, and didn't feel as though they were nearly enough, but Triss' smile told her that it was. Perhaps Yennefer would grow more comfortable with kind gestures and thus improve on her communication of gratefulness.

The morning went by in a blur, as per usual. It was the busiest time of day, after all, and it was even busier than it had been a couple of days ago, likely due to word traveling further and the fact they had to remain closed yesterday. When there was finally a break in the day, Triss had set upon penning a missive to the King of Kovir, while Yennefer cleaned up as they went. Triss' hand moved smoothly on the parchment, as though the words came easy to her. She must have been planning what she was going to say for some time now.

When she had finished, she asked Yennefer to look it over. It was good, respectful, and straight to the point. True to her word, she remained honest, expressing her desire for her life to take on a different direction, though she wished the King nothing but the best in the future of his kingdom. After all, she had hand delivered him many more than capable mages. But of course, none could hold a candle to Triss Merigold.

Alas, he would have to go on without her, as she was needed elsewhere, by someone who needed her more than any King ever could.

"It looks good," Yennefer said encouragingly, seeing how nervous Triss looked.

"Good enough, I hope," she sighed. "I suppose we will see when his response comes."

"It's not like he has much of a choice but to let you go, and I highly doubt he will come looking for you like Radovid."

"No, he's not like that," Triss agreed.

"Would you like me to find a messenger? I was going to run to the square, pick up some more food. And wine, naturally."

"Sure," she said as she handed her the parchment. Yennefer turned to leave but Triss had caught her sleeve, holding her back. Yennefer looked at her with a puzzled expression.

"I love you, Yenna."

 _Swoon_.

Yennefer felt like her younger self when she first had attention ever laid upon her, after her crooked figure had been starved of it her entire life. "I love you," was her breathy response, trying to keep her smile from breaking her face like some grinning fool.

Pulling her hood over her head she went to the square, picking up an assortment of cheese and meat along with some eggs, just replenishing the basics they had burned through. She considered some fruit but it didn't look as though it was doing too well with the sudden chill that had rocked the city, so she decided against it. Under her bags of food was a case of Toussaint red tucked in her arms, ready for another storm to hit should it decide to.

Triss was busy with a customer when she returned, but she gave her a small smile as she went up the stairs to put away the provisions. She returned to her side and continued about the day, until the sun had passed through the sky and began it's descent on the other side.

As before, she shooed Triss to the garden so she may practice her magic while Yennefer tidied and conducted inventory.

A bigger profit than last time, she was losing count of the positives today.

And as before she went and found her love in the garden, the snow cleared and her flames burning bright. Triss showed her all the different things she could do, the things that still needed improvement, the things that were back to normal. Simple incantations were of no issue with her metal arm now, it was just getting the power behind her attacks back up to par at this point.

It filled Yennefer with a sense of pride when she saw how animatedly Triss talked about her abilities, when not long ago she didn't even want to get out of bed. This was progress, setbacks aside it was real progress.

"Would you like to go out for dinner tonight? I haven't got anything started," Yennefer said as she gestured around the kitchen once they were back inside.

" _Ouuu_ , date night again? You like showing me off?" Triss said with a wink.

"Who wouldn't?" Yennefer chuckled as she watched Triss head for the bedroom.

"Just let me wash up, I'm sweaty."

"I like when you're sw-"

_KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK._

Triss stopped in her tracks halfway down the hallway. She turned on her heel slowly, dragging her eyes to meet Yennefer's who stood leaning against the wall of the hall, her arms crossed in front of her. They exchanged looks of mild horror, before both glancing to the doorway, the doorway of the loft, where the knock had sounded, before turning their gazes back to each other.

Yennefer felt the bile rise up her throat.

_"Shit."_

* * *

Three glasses.

She watched as the red liquid poured inside, the very same liquid that was meant for she and Triss, for another time when they would be nestled up by the fire together with not a care in their heads for the outside world.

Until the outside world came to them.

Now she was pouring said wine into not two, but three glasses. She could feel the two sets of eyes on her, patiently waiting in thickened air for her reluctant return to the living area.

Of course Philippa had asked for she and Triss to speak alone, it had nearly been the first thing out of her mouth when Yennefer begrudgingly let her inside. But Triss had shut her down quickly, much to Yennefer's pride.

"There's actually something I think we all need to talk about," Triss had said slowly, "regarding Radovid."

"Of course," had been the tightly displeased response.

With an internal groan she brought two of the glasses, handing one to each woman. Her gaze didn't waver from the woman with the glowing headband, she wanted her to know that Yennefer was here, listening. This was _her_ home, and if Philippa thought she could come in and start calling any kind of shots she would be in for a rude awakening.

She went back to retrieve her own glass; Philippa had seated herself in the armchair, while Triss sat on the couch. She considered taking her place at Triss' side, not only for the displeasure it would surely cause Philippa, but for Triss' comfort as well. But she thought better of it, opting to remain standing instead. Standing exuded her confidence, her dominance in this conversation. Besides, she knew Triss was independent and more than capable of shutting Philippa down, at least she was now.

But Yennefer was here, should anything go awry.

The awkward tension was palpable, each sorceress sipping at their wine as though it were a magic elixir to ease the air around them. Of course, it was Philippa who spoke first, her glowing cloth fixed on Triss as though Yennefer wasn't there.

"You look well," she said plainly.

"I am feeling much better, yes."

Philippa studied her glass for a moment before setting it on the table. "May I see?"

Triss nodded and rolled up her sleeve as Philippa moved from her seat to perch on the couch next to the redhead. "What's this?" she asked, as the gauntlet was revealed.

"Yennefer had it made for me. It's enchanted with runes, it allows me to channel my magic through it rather efficiently. I'd dare say it's nearly at it's usual strength."

Philippa inspected the piece as though trying to find something wrong with it. She watched silently with pursed lips as Philippa turned it over in her hands, running her fingers along the intricate designs.

"That's actually rather brilliant," Philippa muttered, as though it pained her to say.

_I'm aware. I don't need you telling me how fucking brilliant it is-_

"I thought so too," Yennefer grumbled out.

Triss began to remove said gauntlet, revealing her now healed arm. Yennefer's stomach twisted as she witness Philippa running her hands along the skin, the skin that _she_ so painstakingly healed, daring her to have something to say about it.

"You've healed well," Philippa stated again, as though it wasn't obvious. "And how do you feel?"

She knew she meant in the way of Triss' mental state. "I feel good," Triss responded. "Great, actually, now that we have a plan to move forward."

She left out whatever hiccups she had along the way, the trauma that haunted her dreams. Philippa didn't need to know the details of Triss' recovery, she wasn't around for it anyway.

Philippa removed her hands and went back to her original seat, and Yennefer felt the knot loosen with every inch of distance put between them. "A plan you say? And you mentioned this is in regards to Radovid?"

"It is," Triss began. "Ciri actually stopped by and has been made aware of the situation. Yennefer sent her to find Geralt in Toussaint, in hopes that he can help us. We need to start thinking about what we are going to do about Radovid, and Geralt may have some useful connections."

"The witcher has no connections related to our situation that I don't have." Philippa pointed out, her voice hinting smugness. Yennefer fought the urge to roll her eyes.

"I would assume he would track down Dijkstra," Yennefer chimed in. "Last I checked, you and Dijkstra were not on the best of terms, no?"

"Why ever would you think we would need the blundering fool in the first place? Dijkstra would only serve to fuck it up as with everything else." Philippa said hotly.

"So I suppose you have something better in mind?" Yennefer drawled, her voice laced with doubt.

"I might," Philippa said vaguely.

Yennefer felt her hair coming out at the roots.

"Well do you care to elaborate?" she spat rather impatiently. She saw Triss shoot her a look, telling her to reign in her emotions, but the look only served to agitate her further.

Philippa took an insufferably long sip of her wine. "In due course, there are technicalities to sort out first. In the meantime you may tell Geralt he can track down Sigismund if he so wishes, I would love to hear what feeble plan the men come up with so I may poke holes throughout it."

Yennefer didn't really care as long as it got Philippa out of her house sooner.

Triss leaned forward slightly, looking as though she were growing in some impatience as well. Yennefer tried not to feel smug about it.

"You must have some _semblance_ of an idea of what you want to do. I should like to know before Geralt arrives, so we can at least give him something to work with."

Philippa thought for a moment, infuriatingly inspecting the wine glass again, as though looking for a chip or a smudge. Her blood boiled further at the woman's ridiculous theatrics, and was moments away from hurrying her along or kicking her out.

"It is no secret that Radovid's biggest threat to him and his ideals is the Lodge. With the Lodge dismantled, he can exterminate the remaining mages without having to look over his shoulder, though he probably still would due to the acute paranoia. In order to exterminate the Lodge, he must first sever the head."

She paused for dramatic effect of course, and Yennefer could feel her grip tightened around the stem of her glass.

"I have a ring. A ring of most significant importance, actually. It belonged to the good Kings father, I managed to pocket the thing shortly before my unfortunate accident. There is no mage nor sorceress in this world he would rather personally see to death other than yours truly. This _could_ be where Geralt comes in, with the ring he could lure Radovid to a location of our advantage."

Yennefer scoffed almost immediately, "Radovid doesn't trust his own page boy, with paranoia as acute as his. What makes you so sure he would trust Geralt?"

"I'm not," Philippa said simply. "It would be a calculated risk."

" _Calculated risk,_ " Yennefer repeated in disbelief. She was growing rather tired of Philippa taking the reigns on every foolish plan they had. "Let's just pretend for a moment that your ridiculously _dangerous_ plan has merit, and that Geralt somehow manages to convinced the most deranged man on the continent to follow him to such a location. Then what? Do you really think Radovid would go anywhere without a small army at his side?"

"That remains to be seen. I did tell you I have technicalities to work out, dear Yennefer. I suppose the details will be sorted once we have everyone together in Novigrad."

"Your plan sounds like it hinges on chance alone," Yennefer said through gritted teeth.

"Perhaps it does," Philippa said, her tone taking on an inflection of annoyance that had not yet been heard. "But you can't very well walk aboard his ship and expect to not lose more than a hand this time, can you?"

Triss flinched slightly from her cutting words, and Yennefer had to fist her hand at her side in an attempt to abate the chaos that buzzed in her palm. The other had slammed the wine glass harder than intended, but it got the attention back on her as hoped.

"Right. Then I suppose we will see you in Novigrad." Yennefer said with zero attempt to hide the finality in her words. "Expect us in a couple of weeks, we will be at the Chameleon-"

"-Actually," Philippa cut in, venom dripping in her tone. "There is another matter to discuss." Yennefer felt the claws of anger tearing at her chest and she had to force herself to bite her tongue.

_Let Triss handle it._

Philippa's gaze was back on Triss, Yennefer could practically imagine her blackened eyes boring into her if she still had them. If Triss was nervous, it didn't show. She sat with an air of confidence, meeting the older woman's gaze head on.

"You're near recovered," Philippa said slowly, as though dancing around what she really wanted to say, what they all _knew_ she meant. "I hardly see why you're still here, though I suppose it doesn't matter. Do you have an idea of where you'll go once we take care of Radovid?"

Triss' eyes narrowed, clearly tired of Philippa's insistence. "I've told you, I have no interest in joining the Lodge, Phil."

Philippa's jaw set, unwilling to back down. "The Lodge can protect you-"

_I can fucking protect her._

"-had I managed to revive the Lodge sooner, this wouldn't have happened to you, nor Rita, nor Sheala. The Lodge can ensure that something like this never happens to us _again_ , are you really so blind to this fact?"

Triss sighed as though she wanted to let Philippa down easy, and Yennefer couldn't fathom why for the life of her. Her tongue had surely drawn blood by now.

"You may be right, but the Lodge has proven time and time again that it draws dangerous situations more often than it solves them. That just isn't a lifestyle I want, you _knew_ this when I left Skellige that I was to be the Kings advisor in Kovir, I never had any intentions to join the Lodge again."

Triss' voice was almost pleading, and as expected Philippa's reaction was far from positive. "So," she said in a low voice. "You plan on returning to Kovir to do just that? Despite the changes in your… _appearance?"_

Anger flared in Yennefer's chest, and she cut Triss off before she had a chance to reply. "Appearances aside Triss would make a wonderful advisor to the King should that be what she wants. I know that may be difficult for you to hear just how much she could flourish without you, but you will hear it nonetheless!"

Her voice was a toxic venom that spewed from her mouth, her violet eyes surely blazing at this point. She couldn't stop herself as she felt her carefully placed mask of control slipping, _slipping-_

"I'm not going to Kovir," Triss interjected in a desperate attempt to cool the atmosphere. "Not because I _can't_ , but in light of new events I no longer wish for that either."

Phillips scoffed, the smile on her face anything but friendly. "You never could make up your mind could you Triss? Probably why I had to make so many of your decisions for you."

She was belittling the woman right in front of her, treating her as though she were still her pupil under her thumb.

Yennefer could not stand for it.

Slipping…

"I _love_ her!"

The palm of her hand collided with the countertop as she her voice rang out through the living area, causing both women to stare in her direction now.

Yennefer walked from the kitchen to stand ever closer to the two of them. Wine abandoned she crossed her arms in front of her chest and narrowed her eyes dangerously at Philippa. "She's staying here because I _asked_ her to, a decision she and she alone made for _herself_. And I will not tolerate you speaking to her in such a way. Not in my fucking presence."

Philippa didn't say a word. She sipped her wine and pursed her lips, her glowing band still focused on Yennefer as though scrutinizing her. Then, the corners of her mouth began to twitch, and she barked out a humorless laugh that rang through the room and chiseled its way into Yennefer's bones.

" _You?"_ she asked incredulously, before she fixed her gaze on Triss, who remained steadfast in her stare, though her face had reddened slightly from Philippa's earlier berating. "I can't believe it. How did you do it, Triss? Manipulate her like you did the witcher-"

" _Philippa_ ," Yennefer warned dangerously, taking another step towards the woman.

"She loves me, Phil," Triss said quietly. "I know it may be difficult for you to understand, but-"

"-Oh I understand, Triss, I'm not dense. I understand that every breath I spent on you, every ounce of knowledge I poured into you, was a colossal waste of my time-"

_Under the surface, under the bedrock it flows-_

"-I understand that I was clearly the foolish one, ever believing that one day you would wake up and stop wasting your potential-"

_Threatening to spill forth, red and angry and so hot it burns-_

"-I understand now that you will never stop self sabotaging yourself, that you're a liability with an insatiable urge to ruin what little power you have left, opting to throw it all away so you can cling on to someone, _anyone_ , who will give you the time of day. Myself, Geralt, Yennefer, anyone to chase away that feeling of inferiority and loneliness that eats you from the inside out, because you are too weak to ever be alone with yourself, always needing more of the pathetic validation you seek-"

Yennefer could scarcely hear beyond the ringing in her ears-

"I was wrong about you. You were _never_ worth it-"

Blinded by white hot rage, Yennefer's chaos burst forth from her hand without even thinking, hurtling it's way in Philippa's direction, right towards her smug face which spewed such hate towards the woman she loved.

How _dare_ she.

Everything happened so fast; Philippa was surprised by the outburst but managed to brace her hand in front of her, effectively blocking it with a barrier of protection.

A barrier which Yennefer so desperately wanted to tear down.

She hadn't thought twice before conjuring another, her feet moving menacingly towards the elder sorceress, her vision tunneled into an angry red haze. Philippa was on her feet, purple light cracking angrily between her fingers, ready to strike and _Gods_ Yennefer wished she would-

" _STOP!"_ Triss cried frantically as she moved between the two woman, her arms held out between them and the fear in her eyes evident. " _Stop, both of you, please!"_

Her voice was breaking with desperation, her eyes wide and afraid as she looked between them, the look alone was enough for Yennefer to stop her advances but the rage still coursed strong in her veins, her restraint was barely in tact.

Triss seemed to be breathing the hardest, most likely out of fear that she nearly witnessed the two women blast each other to bits. No one moved, Triss still had her arms spread out as though worried as soon as she lowered them the chaos would ensue once again.

After a moment she lowered them slowly, eyeing both of the women as though she were taming two griffins. When satisfied they weren't going to start throwing chaos about the room, she turned on Philippa, standing tall to the woman, her shoulders back and squared.

"I'm sorry if you feel I wasted your time, Philippa. Truly, I am. I can't deny that I wouldn't be the sorceress I am today were it not for you and all you taught me, and for that I will _always_ thank you."

Philippa was watching her now, the chaos dead in her hands.

" _But_ , you never gave a shit about me. Everything you did for me, you were doing it for you. For the Lodge-"

"-The Lodge _was_ for you. For _us-!"_

"-No, no it wasn't Philippa! It wasn't! Because you never thought to even ask what I wanted! You're unbelievably selfish and…and _cruel!_ Even here, when you warned Yennefer not to hurt me, it was just another manipulation to make me think you actually cared about me, but I've seen right through you for awhile now. You never did, you never _could."_

Triss took Philippa's hand then, and Yennefer tried to ignore the twist of jealousy, knowing the two of them had history and that this was Triss' goodbye, but the anger was making her physically ill.

"You are incapable of empathy, Philippa. Incapable of love. You see such things as a weakness, yes?"

Philippa said nothing, clenching her jaw in all the confirmation that Triss needed.

Triss smiled sadly, "then it is _I,_ that feels sorry for _you."_

She let their hands drop and made for the door then, yanking it opening and standing off to the side expectantly. "We will see you in Novigrad, Phil, then after that…" she shrugged indifferently. "After that, it's done."

Philippa didn't move for a moment, as though she wanted to say more on the matter. Her face was unreadable, but Philippa's mask always managed to stay on better than Yennefer's, another fact that irked her to no end. Her hands shook violently, ready for Philippa to dare say another word.

But she didn't. She went through the open door provided for her without a second glance, letting it slam into the frame behind her.

Yennefer's face twisted in anger as she downed the rest of her wine in one fell swoop. She stared at the empty glass a moment, trying to calm the storm inside her. Even with Philippa's absence, the heat would not go with her, her stomach rolled and churned and her heart threatened to burst through her chest.

So she whirled around and hurled the glass as hard as she could, shattering it into a million shards akin to her shattered resolve that floated fractured inside of her, breaking it against the door as though it pacified her in the same way as if Philippa was actually still standing in it's path.

_"Fucking twisted BITCH!"_


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YALL. This is my kink chapter. The tags are there, if its not your thing feel free to skip it, there's nothing here plot wise really. But I like to think its pretty tasteful! For those who are into it, please enjoy!

The anger pulsed sharp and unwelcome, feeding through her veins and back into her chest, every breath seemed to spread it further to her joints until it was all encompassing. It was in her vision, it came out with every labored gasp of air.

She tried to get it under control.

But it wasn't going away.

"That-that _wretch!"_ she tried to yell but it just came out sounding choked.

"Yenna-"

"I'm going to kill her." Her hands were in her hair now, in fear the next step would be destroying her house as her eyes still wandered for something else to throw. "I will fucking _murder_ her-"

_"Yenna-"_

"If she thinks for one _second_ we need her or her bloody ring, I'll turn her back into a fucking bird and-"

_"YENNEFER!"_

She was vaguely aware of Triss calling out her name over the rush of white noise that was crackling in her ears accompanied by the hatred fueled anger that coursed through her body, and she turned on her then. Turned on her, to where she stood where the hall began, to tell her to leave her. Just for a while, until she could reign in her emotions, she didn't want to blow up on Triss and she knew she was teetering dangerously on the edge of doing so.

But something in Triss' expression had the words dying in her throat.

Her cheeks were flushed a brilliant red, rivaling the tones of her hair that clung to her face just ever so slightly. She could see the rise and fall of her chest from where she was standing, and further inspection saw the slight tremble that reverberated through her body. Her lip, captured in her teeth, while her eyes were hooded, looking right at Yennefer, and-

 _Gods_ , they were alight with hunger, _desire_.

Triss wanted her. She wanted her _now_.

It was almost enough to further ignite Yennefer's anger, that Triss would find her vexation arousing. The decision she came to was an easy one; if Triss wanted her in this moment so badly, oh _yes_ , Yennefer would give it to her.

Her jaw clenched painfully, her eyes flitted down the hallway. "To the bedroom, remove your clothes."

Her voice was a bare whisper, her words still trembling. It was in no way a request.

Triss eagerly complied, turning on her heel and walking briskly in the direction of the bedroom, her hand already coming to meet the ties that held her gambeson together. Yennefer took this opportunity to try and gather her thoughts, considering what she was going to do.

The darkness inside her already had a twisted idea, as her thoughts drifted to another box she had hidden away in her closet. She grasped the wine bottle and took a long swig, wiping her mouth haphazardly before following her lover down the hall.

Triss sat naked on the bed, waiting for her, but Yennefer didn't want her there.

"Stand up."

Triss scrambled to her feet, her blush now spread down to her scarred chest.

She paid no attention to the woman as she strode to her closet, her jaw set in a grimace. The anger was now coupled with a boiling anticipation, she found the box she had been seeking.

Yennefer was by no means considered a strictly "vanilla lover", most Sorceresses weren't after living such long lives. One's sex life could easily become mundane, and there was a world of possibilities to explore. Throughout Yennefer's own experiences and travels, she had picked up a few things along the way.

She eyes the contents, skimming over the different baubles and objects, the scenario coming together in her head of what she wanted to do. She could feel Triss' eyes burning into her, desperate to see what Yennefer was concocting, but Yennefer didn't want her to see, not yet.

So she pulled the coiled rope from the box first.

Bypassing Triss her eyes wandered the room, before settling on the mounted torch on the far wall. Her eyes zeroed in on Triss, who visibly gulped where she stood. Yennefer approached her slowly but with purpose as she unraveled the rope.

"Put on the gauntlet," Yennefer said, waiting for it to be done.

Once she had two 'hands' again, she grabbed her roughly by the wrist, and began to tie the rope to it. She took the other, her gauntlet, and brought it to her other hand, effectively tying them together. She created a large loop between them, which she would use to hook over the mounted torch.

Wasting no time she pulled on the rope, Triss winced slightly as the material cut into her wrist, but her eyes seemed to blaze further. Yennefer thought she would feel bad.

She didn't.

She pulled her along as though she were leading a mare, meeting no resistance as Triss willingly followed her to the wall. She gave her a nudge until the front of her nude body was pressed against the cold stone, a small gasp escaping her lips at the cold contact. She gripped the rope and slung it over the torch just above her head, forcing her arms to be raised above her, effectively stilling her movement, preventing her from going anywhere.

Yennefer's temples throbbed with every beat of her frantic heart, but she paid no mind. Her hand gripped Triss by the back of the head and slowly, _slowly_ , she pressed forward, until her forehead rested against the stone.

"Don't look at me," she whispered coldly in her ear, her breath ghosting along the ridge and it pleased her to watch Triss shiver. "If you do, I'll shock your tits so hard they'll never be the same."

She didn't wait for Triss' answer, she didn't receive one anyway. The hitch in her breath as it caught in her throat was all the confirmation she needed to know Triss had heard her.

She strode back to the box and began to strip off her own clothes, if for no other reason other than her skin felt as though it were burning.

She couldn't help the sharp memory of her reading Triss' mind, when Philippa too had told her to face the wall, with her body on display. The thought bubbled up another dose of the scalding rage that sat in her belly, and she told herself she wasn't Philippa. That she _loved_ Triss, and that was the jarring difference.

Abandoning her clothes she held the box and brought it to the dresser. She made a point of moving the items around slowly, letting the glass _chink_ together, so Triss' fantasies may run wild with what she was about to do. She settled on her objects of desire; one phallus made from expertly crafted blackened glass, with a smaller plug of the same color to match.

Yes. These would do.

Her eyes went back to Triss.

Who was _watching_ her.

Her eyes narrowed as she met her gaze, and she abandoned the toys on the top of her dresser as she turned and began to advance on the woman like a predator honing in on it's kill. Triss' head snapped back to the wall, her flush betraying the knowledge that she was caught.

As she got closer she heard the frantic muttering under Triss' breath.

_"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-AGH!"_

Her hands gripped Triss' breasts roughly, taking the hard nubs between her fingers, and true to her word electric light burst from the tips of her fingers, passing chaos through her nipples. Triss arched into the wall as she cried out sharply, trying to relieve herself of the pain. The ropes pulled taught, her knuckles white on the hand that had wrapped around to grip them in purchase, as though it would alleviate the intensity.

Almost immediately, Yennefer changed her magic to that of a soothing chill, and she massaged her fingers gently into her stiffened red peaks, soothing the burn she so liberally applied a few agonizing seconds ago. Triss mewled in relief at the new contact, and her spine straightened as though the prod removed, slumping only slightly as the ropes would not allow her to go any further.

"You looked," Yennefer said in a low voice, a menacing tone that came from her throat. "You're far too eager."

Her eyes roamed Triss' naked figure, down the expanse of her back over a toned rear which gave way to trembling thighs, when something caught her eye.

A single drip, a creamy white line, ran down her inner thigh, evidence of Triss' building arousal.

"What's this," Yennefer drawled. She let her nails trail down Triss' back, lightly, enough to break her out in shivers once again. She wandered them lower, over her buttocks where she dug in a little harder. Continuing, she held extended her index finger to catch said drip, until it pooled on the tip of the digit. Triss bucked slightly at the contact, as though trying to chase Yennefer's hand, to bring it where she desperately wanted it.

"You're enjoying this," Yennefer whispered, more to herself. She brought the finger to Triss' lips, close enough she could feel her uneven breaths ghosting over her finger and cooling the heated liquid. With her thumb and middle finger she gripped her jaw, and Triss opened her mouth _so_ willingly, allowing Yennefer to deposit her juices onto her tongue, eagerly licking the digit clean.

She bit the pad of Yennefer's finger softly, but enough to pinch. The feeling shocked through her hand at lightening speed, traveling through her body to flex in her abdomen and squeeze at her cunt.

Yennefer let out a quiet moan, feeling her control slipping slightly, before reigning it in once more.

She was in control. This was _hers._

She let her hand fall to her side and Triss' breathed hard from the loss, practically vibrating now with anticipation. Yennefer made a show of moving as slowly as she could, the fire of her encounter with Philippa still burning brightly, and it almost made her sick that Triss was now paying for it.

_Almost._

She retrieved the two objects from the dresser and went back to Triss' side. She held the small one where she could see it, under her face where her forehead was pressed to the stone.

"You know where I'm going to put this, yes?" she asked in the same low and predatory voice, barely able to contain her emotion behind it.

" _Y-yes_ ," she breathed, but she didn't sound nervous. She sounded impatient.

"And this?" she asked again, holding out the longer toy, the one resembling a hardened cock.

"Yes," she said again without a hint of hesitation.

"Good."

She tucked the larger one under her arm, it would make it's appearance shortly. She took the small plug, twirling it in her hand before she brought it to the apex of Triss' thigh. She whimpered at the cold contact as the began to rub the length of her slit, gathering her juices as lubricant. Every time Triss tried to press into the object, to seek relief for her heated core, Yennefer would drag it away. It was not meant for her core.

From the top of her clit the ran it backwards, further towards her, until she hovered just outside the puckered opening of her rear, a most private of places. Triss' breathing began to pick up, on the brink of gasping.

" _Hush,"_ Yennefer murmured, caressing the cheek of her bottom in a soothing motion. Slowly, she began to push the slippery tool past the tight opening, and on reflex Triss gasped and her hole puckered tighter at the strange intrusion.

"Relax," Yennefer whispered. "It will go easier." Triss let out a high pitched sigh as she did as she was told, though her hand still had the rope in a death grip.

_"Mph! Ah!"_

The plug slid in to the base, fit snug in her rear end. Triss breathed hard, at first out of relief, soon out of pleasure as she adjusted to her hole being filled.

" _One down_ ," Yennefer whispered dangerously into her ear from behind. "You're doing _so_ well."

Triss mewled in response to Yennefer's words, a strange ripple flowing through her body as every muscle tensed and released, and something dawned on Yennefer.

Triss _liked_ being praised. She liked it _a lot._

So she smiled a dangerous smile, Triss couldn't see but she knew she would hear it in her voice as she pressed herself to Triss' back. "Such a _good_ girl."

Triss whimpered, her hips moving on their own as though she didn't even realize it.

"You see the turmoil I'm in…you want to make me happy, don't you? _Answer me."_

 _"I do_ ," was the immediate keened response.

"Good, you're so good."

Triss mewled again and pulled on the ropes, harder this time as she writhed against the wall, her breath coming out in a huff of impatience at the end as Yennefer's words spurred her arousal further.

Yennefer was enjoying herself, but the black hole in her stomach continued to grow, her appetite insatiable. It was missing something, something more.

She squeezed Triss' shoulders and went to the bed. She ripped off one of the top sheets, spinning it in her hands until she had another makeshift rope.

She was behind Triss again in a flash. "Do you trust me, Triss?"

"I do."

" _Say it,_ " she croaked.

"I trust you, Y-Yenna," she rushed, her voice broken and hoarse.

She looped the sheet around Triss' neck, giving it an experimental tug. Triss' breath hitched again as the fabric pressured her throat, and Yennefer felt her own thighs to grow wet at the sound.

_"Please-"_

She yanked on the sheet this time, effectively cutting her off as she choked. " _I will go as fast as I damn well please!"_

Triss whimpered and shook, her body now in a full blush, Yennefer looked to the red heads thighs and found more tracks of her juices beginning to spill forth, her body responding to Yennefer's various experiments on her.

She felt a little bad for being so harsh in her outburst, but her heart and her gut did not, both still spasming with adrenaline and aggravation.

So when she pressed the glass cock to her soaked opening, she already knew the pace she was going to set. Triss' began to pant heavily at the prospect of being filled again, and made a pathetic attempt to meet the glass, desperately trying to feed her body with it.

Yennefer plunged it inside her. _Hard._

Triss nearly screamed as she began to pump it aggressively inside her, her hips immediately bucking to meet each thrust. Yennefer could feel in her hand the resistance as the phallus grazed past the plug still sitting in her rear, her walls so tight and so _full._

She pulled the sheet and Triss choked and sputtered, but her hips never slowed, if anything the lack of oxygen only spurred her on further, to go faster. So Yennefer pulled again, relishing in the choked whine that pushed forcefully past her lovers lips, a mixture of intense pleasure with undertones of pain and restraint.

She slammed the glass into her harder, deeper, until her hand was now smacking against her sex violently, the wet sound quickly drowned out by Triss' voice.

_"Hah! Yenna, YENNAAAAH!"_

Gods, she was so loud. Louder than she had heard previously, she couldn't help but chase the sound and draw more as though it would never be enough as she continued her assault on her cunt. It delighted Yennefer, took her to new heights, to hear her name called out so roughly.

She pulled she sheet harder until Triss was at a loss for words, until her high pitched whines had turned into womanly grunts of exertion, strained against the satin cloth on her throat and Yennefer felt the sound travel to her hand.

Triss' legs began to convulse violently, Yennefer's gaze went up to where she pulled on the ropes in a wild motion. " _AHHHNNG FUCK!_ Yen-I'm-I'm-"

Her wail sharpened into an incoherent scream, though Yennefer swore she heard her name choked throughout it somehow as her orgasm rocked through her. She didn't hesitate to remove the phallus from her in one swift motion, eliciting another strained grunt from deep in Triss' throat.

She grabbed her shoulders and twisted her around until they were facing one another. The rope twisted with her, yanking her arms up impossibly higher. In a second she was all over Triss, pressed against her, the glass back at her opening and forcing its way back inside from whence it came.

 _"AH!_ S-sensitive!" Triss cried. " _Nnh_ -Yenna, I can't-!"

 _"You will."_ She growled, as she forced it in her all the way to the base.

Triss screamed again, her whines of protest quickly dying out as she tossed her head back and shouted to the heavens as Yennefer assaulted her core all over again. Her body shook as though electrified, Yennefer had to hold on tight just to keep up with the wild motion of her hips bucking frantically.

Liquid began to spurt forth from heat, mixing with the sweat that shimmered on her body, thick and salty and so _alive_. She could feel the clench, she made love with the woman enough times to recognize the signs of her reaching her crest, the way her blue eyes hazed before rolling completely and squeezing shut, the manic trembling of her muscles, the way her heavy panting gave way to hyperventilation, and Yennefer wanted all of it.

So she locked her mouth to her breast, her tongue swirling around the hardened nub before nipping it with her teeth.

She came harder the second time; her body collapsed as far as the ropes would allow, tears now pricking at the corners of her eyes and a light vein bulged in her temple where her hair clung so. Her moan was guttural, loud, a grunt filled with tiresome effort and satisfaction. Yennefer removed the glass again, having the mercy to do so slower this time, while reaching up for the ropes and unhooking them from the torch. She didn't assist Triss to the ground; instead she watched, her grip tight on the ropes that still bound her, as the woman sank to her knees and Yennefer's leverage stopped her from doing so too quickly.

She sank to her knees in exhaustion, whimpering quietly as she rested her head to Yennefer's thigh. She could feel the slick of her sweat, the burning heat of her cheek, it made her stomach roil pleasantly.

She let the rope fall and ran her fingers through her dampened hair, caressing her scalp softly, soothing her.

 _"Shhhh,"_ she hushed as small cries slipped from the woman's puffy lips. "You did so well, sweetheart. So well."

Triss let out a strangled sob as she pressed her lips to Yennefer's thigh, the action squeezing at her heart for a moment.

She was suddenly overcome with a strange, twisted desire, as she watched Triss pant into her leg. To see her submit to her so easily, it gave Yennefer a strange sense of ownership, of _power_. It almost made her sick, how much she enjoyed it, but she pushed the feeling away so she may lose herself in the moment, and give in to those twisted desires just once.

She removed her hand from her red tresses, moving her palm down her face and cupping her chin, tilting her head so she may look at her. Blue orbs met violet, her gaze unwavering. Her face was still a beautiful shade of scarlet, but she had seemed to have recovered, her breath only coming out slightly forced through her nose.

Yennefer's abdomen throbbed again at the mere sight of her. Her fingers danced lightly on the ridge of her jaw.

"Open your mouth," she whispered, her voice sounding strangely soft. This _was_ a request this time.

But Triss obliged immediately, and _oh_ what it did to Yennefer that Triss trusted her so wholly, that she would do anything for her. Her delicate pink tongue hung forward and out, as she sat up straighter.

Yennefer visibly shuddered. Her blood was hot as she gathered the saliva she had behind her own lips, pulling it into her tongue as she let her mouth hang open slightly. Bracing her hand on the wall she leaned forward, pouring herself into Triss, letting the spit push past her lips and into Triss' open and waiting mouth-

-and watched as she _eagerly_ swallowed it, as though she were strangely desperate for it. If she wasn't, she was an exceptionally talented actress. But what really broke Yennefer, what made her own frame begin to tremble as her arousal began to quite obviously run down her own thighs, was how Triss immediately opened her mouth as if to say _more_.

" _Fuck,"_ Yennefer groaned deeply, this time gathering more of the liquid, as much as she could, her other hand coming to the wall as she leaned even closer and spit in her mouth again.

Triss barely had it down her throat before Yennefer was overcome with her frenzied hunger.

She sobbed as her hand gripped the back of Triss' head roughly, pressing her mouth to her core in a desperate motion, and Triss immediately began to eat her hungrily, ravaging her cunt in a mess of obscene noises.

Yennefer bucked into her face, grinding into her with such fervor she briefly wondered if the woman could breathe. Triss reached her cuffed hands through her legs, coming to grip her rear and press harder into her, so that told her that breathing was of no issue to her.

Her tongue pressed impossibly deep inside her, while her nose bumped roughly against the bundle of nerves and Yennefer already knew before she had even initiated it that it wasn't going to take her long at all. She could already feel the heat spreading throughout her body, the familiar tingling that made her toes curl and her stomach fill with a pleasant warmth, the white lights coming to greet her behind her eyelids as Triss' wonderful mouth took her there-

She let out a wanton moan as she shook against the woman, now panting hard against her forearm as she slumped further to the wall. She remained there in a state, only partially aware of the feathered kisses Triss was pressing to her dripping lips, her inner thigh.

_Oh Triss._

The anger had dissipated. The adrenaline was rapidly wearing off. All that was left was the shitty hangover of letting her emotions get the best of her.

Her eyes blurred and a soft, near imperceptible whimper escaped her lips as she quickly crouched down to where Triss was still kneeling, grabbing at her wrists in a frantic motion to undo the knots she tied. All Triss could do is look on with a bewildered expression.

Yennefer tossed the rope and found what she suspected; ligature marks marred her wrist, red and angry, and her breath shuddered with sadness as she pressed her lips to them, letting her tears fall onto Triss' skin.

"Yennefer?" She asked incredulously. "What-What's wrong, love-?"

"-I'm sorry," Yennefer choked out against her skin, not meeting her gaze. She felt Triss' palm twist to caress at her jaw.

"What? Yenna, sweetheart, what are you sorry for? That was amazing, it was wonderful-"

"N-no, I know," Yennefer stuttered, finally sitting up to meet her gaze. "I know, it was amazing, but…but I was so angry, I-oh _Triss,_ I wasn't punishing you, you know that don't you? I-I'm not _her."_

Understanding, better described as horrified recognition dawned on Triss' as her features twisted into shock and she grabbed Yennefer, pulling her tightly to her. "Oh _Yenna_ , Oh Gods of course I know that! I never thought you were punishing me, not for one second. You are _nothing_ like her. I _wanted_ this, don't you see?"

She brushed Yennefer's hair from her face, cupping her cheeks lovingly. "I'm the one who should be sorry, I never wanted you to feel this way. I shouldn't have taken advantage of your anger. But it wasn't that, that turned me on. It was the way you defended me so passionately, so readily. I began to feel…to feel it when you told her you loved me...and maybe I shouldn't have made this situation into something sexual, I should have expressed my desires at a more appropriate time."

"Don't say that," Yennefer said. "It's not your fault, I just…I just needed you to know that my anger was never towards you, even if I took it out on you. And I'm sorry for using you as an outlet for that."

To her surprise, Triss smiled warmly at her. "I don't mind being your outlet, if you make me come like that again."

Yennefer couldn't help but smile with her, " _Triss-"_

" _Yennefer,"_ she mocked back, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. "Come on, we're both a little fucked up. Maybe that's why we work so well. But I love you, and you love me. That's why doing those things with Philippa could never ever compare to when I am under your hand, Yenna. It couldn't even come close."

Yennefer's smile only grew as a soothing wave of relief crashed over her. She had been worried she had become the very woman she currently despised, that perhaps that she was merely the woman's replacement. She even had the small fear that Triss _wanted_ her to be that, even though that was ridiculous. Triss was in love with _her_ long before Philippa came along.

She didn't want to be like Philippa who pretended to not have feelings to only unleash them in a torrent of insults or physical pain.

But she wasn't like that. Maybe it was like that this time, but it wasn't as though it lacked the love they always shared. And Triss was well aware of Yennefer's emotional state, and she wished for those emotions to be flexed upon her. But Triss also desired her touch in the dead of night, under the sheets, in a loving and giving way. She wanted it when they cuddled by the fire and her hands were slow and lazy. She wanted it when they laughed together in the kitchen, and Yennefer would come to squeeze her breasts and they would giggle like they were young.

It wasn't punishment, it was an understanding between them.

Yennefer was suddenly struck with a thought.

"Would you like me to remove your plug?" she murmured sheepishly.

Triss purred in her throat, leaning close to press her lips against Yennefer's, her mouth was hot and inviting and it made Yennefer nearly melt into her.

"Maybe we can leave it in just a little longer." She whispered against her lips, her smile mischievous.

Yennefer nipped at her bottom lip. "You _minx._ "

Triss chuckled as she looked away shyly. "Truthfully, it's because I fear I may die from the sensitivity if you try now."

Yennefer smiled at her and hooked her arm under her legs, the other coming to her back, lifting her from the floor in a swift motion as Triss squealed and giggled. The sound was beautiful on her ears.

She laid her on the bed as though she were a queen, proceeding to pounce on top of her and began to kiss her slowly, languidly.

"Focus on me," she said. " _Kiss me hard."_

Triss obliged her, leaning up to meet her halfway with enthusiasm. Distracted by the kiss, Yennefer seized the opportunity to remove the plug slowly, relishing how Triss sighed deeply into her mouth.

She placed it on the bedside table and turned her attention back to the redhead. "Shall we get in the tub?"

 _"Mmm_ that sounds nice. Do you think we could postpone our date until tomorrow? I'm feeling rather spent after that."

"Of course. I'll make us up a plate of bread and cheese instead, you can get the herb ready."

Triss kissed her again, slow and sweet, making Yennefer's head swim.

Just like that, Triss melted away all negative thoughts and feelings of contempt, Philippa and her cruel words long forgotten and irrelevant.


	20. Chapter 20

Time felt as though it ceased to exist in her new life now. 

  
Before she could even register it, two blissful weeks had passed by before their eyes, each day seemingly more lovely than the last. Falling into a new routine together, it was easy to forget about their upcoming trials they were to face. Every day they opened the shop, Triss got to know their patrons by name, and she grew more and more comfortable in her position. 

  
Her magic had grown stronger too; each day Yennefer would close the shop so Triss could practice her offensive abilities, but she would also use her time around the shop and around the loft to enhance the more mundane incantations as well. Each day, she discovered new ways to live her life and accomplish simple tasks with one hand, and it wasn’t long before she didn’t require Yennefer's help with anything really. 

  
Yennefer watched her flourish and blossom before her eyes, growing out of the shell of herself and becoming the confident woman she had known before, the woman who helped defeat the wild hunt and secured the fate of her fellow mages. 

  
They would go out for dinner together at least a couple of nights a week, and when they didn’t they would cook together mostly. Sometimes Yennefer would surprise her with a meal, and Triss would almost always cook her breakfast. Yennefer thought she was an early riser, but Triss seemed to put her to shame in that regard. Triss' reasoning was that she enjoyed watching the sunrise, and it warmed Yennefer's heart that Triss' _wanted_ to see the sunrise again, so she would never protest. 

  
In the evenings they would read, smoke, laugh and make love. The routine came easy, it was in no way boring for her. She found herself living for the new days, so she could fall in her lovers arms all over again. She wasn’t sure if the townsfolk knew of their relationship, but none would dare speak on it anyway. 

  
It wasn't without it's flaws along the way; there was still nights where Triss would be jarred awake by a nightmare, though nothing to the extent of the first night, which told her the herb helped at least a bit. The next nightmare she had, she had woken to find Triss sitting up in the bed, hugging herself and staring sadly at the fire, the light illuminating the unshed tears in her eyes. Yennefer held her, and told her to wake her up the next time it happened. Triss tried to protest, but Yennefer insisted, and she was glad when Triss actually followed through with her request the next time. When these nights did occur, and thankfully they were seldom, she would do her best to make Triss smile, speak to her in a soothing voice, let Triss touch her skin, anything to let her know she wasn’t alone in her struggle. 

  
Triss seemed grateful, and Yennefer always managed a small smile out of her. 

  
Triss had made herself a sizeable amount of coin in the weeks she worked with Yennefer, too. And as promised, something for Yennefer was her first purchase. 

  
And what a purchase it was. 

  
Yennefer had told her the story of her black mare, the one she rode when she was escaping the hunt. His name was Storm, and sadly, Storm had been lost in the fight. It was difficult for Yennefer to speak of, and she hadn’t brought herself to purchase a new one since. If she ever did need a horse, the King of Aedirn would gladly lend her one of the palace mares from the royal stables, thanks to her efforts for the city. 

  
But Yennefer was too afraid to get attached to any one mare for long, similar to how she lived her life with people. 

  
But that day, after their usual busy morning and early afternoon had passed, Yennefer had expected Triss to head upstairs for the garden as she usually did, but when she didn’t hear her leave she glanced up from her inventory. 

  
Triss had been placing her hood on her head and had a hand resting on the door of the shop, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Are you coming?” 

  
Yennefer was perplexed. “Where?” she asked. 

  
Triss shrugged vaguely. “I want to go for a walk.” 

  
Yennefer couldn’t help but smile with her. “You’re planning something,” she accused. 

  
“Maybe I am. Will you just come?” She pleaded, bouncing from her impatience. 

  
Yennefer sighed and conceded, abandoning her duties and following Triss outside. She locked the shop and let her lead her down the street, in the direction of the castle. The world was still a blanket of white, though they hadn’t gotten many bad snowfalls save for the last one. But the air was now a biting cold, and she automatically pushed herself closer to Triss as though it was second nature. 

  
“Where are you taking me?” She questioned as they bypassed the market. Soon they stood before the grand castle, taking a second to marvel the detailed architecture of the towers and marble. It never ceased to amaze Triss, the beauties of Vengerberg. 

  
“You'll see,” was the cryptic answer, and Yennefer wondered why she bothered to ask at all. 

  
She led them around back, towards the stables on the palace grounds, and Yennefer felt her heart begin to quicken slightly as she could piece together what Triss was up to. 

They reached the stables, treading carefully on the frozen, uneven ground. All of the horses were safe in the barn away from the cold, dressed in their thick coats to protect them from the harsh winds. The stablemaster, a young man named Yannik, with a mop of shaggy blonde hair and a goatee to match beamed at them as they approached. 

  
“Madam Yennefer, Miss Merigold!” 

  
_How did he know Triss' name?_

  
“Yannik,” Triss greeted warmly, Yennefer’s confusion momentarily tying her tongue. “How has your week treated you?” 

  
“Can't complain, Miss, save for the dreaded cold. I assume you’re here for your purchase?” 

  
“I am,” Triss said, smiley widely at Yennefer before turning back to the stablemaster. “Is he ready?” 

  
“He is, and he is one cheerful boy let me tell you! Adorned with all of the necessities you requested, the finest specimen I have laid eyes upon if I do say myself. The King himself would be hard pressed to find better, I'm surprised he is willing to part with him.” 

  
“Please give the King my regards,” Triss said. She looked to Yennefer, “come,” she said softly. 

  
Yennefer's legs felt weak as she followed Triss and Yannik to the barn. Once inside she removed her hood, marveling at the different breeds they had. Stunning chestnuts, lean and powerful. Beautiful royal white steeds, mares truly fit for royalty. 

  
When something caught her eye. 

  
They led her to the back where she found what might be the most beautiful mare she ever laid eyes on. 

  
A gorgeous, midnight black, _no_ , deeper than that. It was as though it was devoid of any color at all, the shade was so rich, rivaling even the blackest tresses of Yennefer's own hair. The mares eyes were soft, and Yennefer found herself drawn to them, as though they were full of promise. A slender build, but surprisingly muscled underneath the glossy, supple coat that shone majestically like the black pearls of Skellige. It's flowing mane, soft and thick and healthy, whipped majestically with every breeze that found it's way in the barn. It tossed it's head as powerful hooves pawed at the ground, almost excitedly, it's elegant neck rolling on burly shoulders. 

  
“A beautiful Zerrikanian,” Yannik said as Yennefer continued to marvel at the awe instilling horse. “We just received him last week. It was meant to remain with the royal guard, but your friend here made quite the case. The King agreed that he should be yours, Madam Yennefer, as a thank you for all you’ve done for Aedirn.” 

  
Yennefer’s brain had to catch up to his words. “M-Mine?” 

  
She turned and saw Triss handing a large coin purse to Yannik, looking even more excited than Yennefer. “Yours,” she assured. “Yannik will give him the best care here at the stables where he will be housed, but he is yours.” 

  
Yennefer was nearly overcome with emotion as a hand came to clasp her mouth in disbelief. She turned back to the horse, so as to not show her weakness to the stablemaster, but Gods was her heart ever full. She removed her glove and reached a tentative hand to the muzzle, and the horse met her halfway, nuzzling into the touch. She pressed her head to the soft fur and the horse seemed to give a huff of approval. 

  
She swallowed the lump in her throat and blinked her tears away, completely and utterly touched by the gesture. “Thank you,” she said to Triss. “Both of you, and please give my regards to the King as well. He's…he's _perfect_.” 

  
“Well?” Triss said, raising an eyebrow as Yannik moved to open the gate. “Take him out for a ride, Yenna.” 

  
“Come with me?” Yennefer said immediately. She wanted Triss with her, to share in the experience. 

  
“Are you sure?” she asked, not wanting to spoil Yennefer's first ride. 

  
“Of course.” 

  
Yennefer mounted the powerful mare and held out a hand to Triss, who saddled up behind her. “We won't be long,” Yennefer called to Yannik, “it's rather cold.” 

  
“Take as long as you need,” he replied with a deep bow. 

  
With a kick of her heels they were off out of the barn. The mare had an amazing temperament, as she had suspected. He followed her cues with ease, responded to her commands willingly and without hesitation. She didn’t ride fast, as she didn’t want them to be blasted by the cold air, instead they did a light gallop down the cobbled streets until they were soon on the outskirts of the city. 

  
She halted the mare when she felt Triss squeeze her from behind. “Do you like him?” she asked timidly. 

  
“I _love_ him,” Yennefer said immediately, turning as far as she could in the saddle so Triss could kiss her frozen cheek. “I love him Triss, I…I'm speechless! He is the most beautiful creature…where on earth did you find time to do this?” 

  
“ _Hmmm_ I might have found some time in one of my early mornings,” she said slyly. “I took a walk to the castle, just exploring the market and such. I was going to tell you of my walk until I happened upon the stablemaster, then I decided I would surprise you. I asked him what he had for sale and he showed me a few, but I told him I wanted _this_ one. He said it wasn’t for sale, but I managed to persuade the King.” 

  
“You spoke with the King?” 

  
“I did,” she said proudly. “When the stablemaster gave him my name after saying he would discuss the purchase with him, he came down to welcome me to the city. We talked about it and in short, I got the mare.” 

  
“You know I would have worried to wake up and find you gone,” Yennefer chided playfully. 

  
“I left a note,” she said dismissively, “I threw it away when I got back. Since you were still getting your beauty rest.” 

  
Yennefer smacked her in jest, chuckling lightly. Her expression turned serious, “this must have cost you all of your earnings thus far.” 

  
“It's worth it, for you.” 

  
She kissed her again and turned the mare around, bringing him back to the stables. Safely back in his housing, they thanked Yannik again and Yennefer felt herself a little saddened by the weather. She would gladly ride the mare for the rest of the afternoon if her skin would have allowed it. 

  
“Have you thought of a name?” Triss asked as they headed back in the direction of the shop. 

  
Yennefer didn’t have to think on it long, she had already been wondering herself during the ride. 

  
“Thunder,” she said softly, thinking of her beloved Storm. 

  
“Thunder is a wonderful name,” Triss agreed.

* * *

  
“That's it! Good, really good!” 

  
Yennefer approached Triss as she lowered her arms, breathing heavily from the exertion of her magic. Her boots crunched softly in the snow, the glitter of the ice long gone with the setting sun. Triss turned and smiled at her, apparently enjoying the praise outside the bedroom as much as she did in it. 

  
“If we get a warmer day, we should think about venturing out of the city, so you can really let loose.” 

  
Triss chuckled as she blew a strand of hair from her eyes. “That’s a good idea, I know I have more power behind it, but I'm afraid I would destroy your garden.” 

  
“ _Our_ garden,” she corrected, throwing an arm around Triss' shoulders. Triss blushed slightly as she rested her head on Yennefer's shoulder. 

  
“Our garden,” she repeated, and for a moment they were quiet, enjoying the scenery around them as the lights of Vengerberg came to life, the low hum of the street noise carrying in the wind as folk returned to their homes or to the local inn. 

  
“The chicken will be done soon,” Yennefer broke the silence. “Why don't you go wash up?” 

  
“Yes _mom_ -" 

  
“ _Yennefer!”_

  
The voice had her nearly jumping out of her skin; Triss must have felt it too, for she jumped from Yennefer's arm and whirled around with her to find the source of the sound. 

  
Her had to do a double take; there stood Ciri, her ashen hair tied up and blowing in the wind. She was dressed significantly warmer than the last time she showed, apparently she had the foresight to prepare for the winter to greet them upon their return. She beamed at the pair of them as she approached with her arms spread wide for an embrace, and behind her- 

  
There was Geralt. Of course, he hadn’t changed in the few months since she had laid eyes on him. Still his burly self, the only difference was his attire, his armor was looking much less shabby than it had previously. In fact, it may be the most spectacular ensemble she had ever seen, the silver plates were almost like mirrors over a deep burgundy leather. 

  
It was strange, seeing the man again, the one she used to love so fiercely. Before, the sight of him would bring her either a great sense of longing, or a deeply embedded irritation. But now, it was nothing really, aside from a slight relief that he too hadn’t gotten himself killed yet. 

  
Ciri squeezed her tight, nearly knocking the wind out of her. “Ciri,” she exclaimed happily, “thank the Gods you’re here in one piece.” 

  
“Oh please,” she said flippantly, “it'll take more than a higher vampire to take me down!” She moved to exchange greetings with Triss. 

  
“Higher vampire?” she questioned, as her eyes went to Geralt. 

  
He offered a small half smile as he approached. “It's a long story,” he said in his gruff voice. “It's good to see you, Yen.” 

  
“Likewise Geralt,” she replied smoothly. Upon his approach she noted the stench of death on his clothes and had to force herself not to wrinkle her nose. She had forgotten just how pungent his lifestyle left him, especially after breathing in the scent of someone as sweet as Triss, who did not make her nose sour quite like he did. “I would suggest you both take a bath, I assume you came straight here after whatever monster it was you slain.” 

  
Geralt opened his mouth but Ciri interjected, “Missed you too, Yen!” 

  
Geralt looked past Yennefer, his expression turning solemn. “Triss…are you…” 

  
“I'm doing better, thank you Geralt,” Triss said softly. For a moment, a slightly awkward silence fell upon them, in which Yennefer took it upon herself to break. 

  
“Let's get inside, I have a chicken on, there's plenty for everyone. Right, wine, I think the market is still open. Geralt, would you accompany me?” 

  
She would use this opportunity to fill Geralt in on the drastic changes that have come about since their departure. Perhaps it would be a little awkward to do so in front of everyone. Besides, she was sure Ciri would just hound Triss on the current state of their budding relationship. She could already assume Ciri had not mentioned something so personal to Geralt thus far, especially if their relationship wasn’t even concrete the last time Ciri visited. 

  
“Sure,” was his response, and together they headed inside out of the cold of the roof. 

  
“Ciri and I will finish up with dinner,” Triss said to Yennefer, giving her a soft smile. 

  
“Thank you,” Yennefer whispered back before securing her coat and turning to Geralt. “Shall we?” 

  
“Lead the way.” 

  
They went downstairs and stepped back out into the harsh wind. It was silent for a moment, save for their boots crunching in the freshly powdered snow, along with the flow of conversation from the street folk surrounding them. 

  
“I assume Ciri has filled you in on all the necessary details?” she asked. 

  
“She did. I'm…sorry, Yen. Before I went to Skellige, Dijkstra tried to arrange a plan to get rid of him, but it fell through. Had I known this was going to happen, maybe we could have come up with something else.” 

  
“There's no way you could have known. Besides, that's why we're here, to do something about it now. Triss will be alright.” Her eyes went to the purple skies, hoping her words to be true. 

  
“It's good to see you and Triss are speaking again. I was surprised when Ciri told me you took her in, nursed her back to health.” His words were careful, as they usually were whenever he spoke to Yennefer. 

  
“I don't know why everyone is so surprised,” she said with annoyance, solidifying his desire to walk on eggshells. “I'm not some heartless monster.” 

  
“I didn’t say that,” he said with slight exasperation. “But she's still here. I just wasn’t expected her to stick around.” 

  
She sighed as she prepared to enlighten him of what would no doubt be even more surprising. “In light of new… _information_ , Triss will be staying with me, from now on.” 

  
“Information?” 

  
Here goes nothing. 

  
“Yes, as it turns out, Triss harbored some…tender feelings for me. Has for some twenty odd years.” 

  
She smiled as she felt Geralt still beside her, his body fully turned to her now. “Say again?”

  
“It's true.” 

  
“But-we-" 

  
“I'm aware, Geralt, of yours and Triss' time together,” she said more coldly then she ought to. “She was in love with me, throughout your little tryst.” It felt almost good to deliver such a blow; especially when Geralt had hurt her by doing what he did, at least she never even wanted him in the first place. But with that being said, she knew her claws of pettiness were showing for no reason, and she tried to reign it in. One jab surely couldn’t hurt, it was her nature after all. 

  
“Then why did she do it?” 

  
“I suppose that's more for her to tell you.” 

  
“It doesn’t make sense. How can you be sure you can trust her, and that it's not just an excuse to get herself off your bad side?” 

  
“Bad side? Geralt, I don't have a bad side,” she said with feigned sweetness. “A couple of reasons; first, I read her mind, and we all know there’s nothing to hide when it comes to telempathy. Second, I've spent enough time with her these past few weeks to know for certain that it cannot be faked.” 

  
Geralt was silent a moment, as her words sunk in. Gods, sometimes the man displayed a surprising amount of intelligence, and other times, he was just plain slow. 

  
“Wait…so you’re…?” 

  
Her smile softened as she thought of Triss. The magnetic blues of her eyes, how easy it was to lose herself in them. The softness of her skin, when it pressed against her in the warmth of their sheets. “I _love_ her,” she said softly, but with conviction. “I love her with everything I have.” 

  
Geralt was stubbornly quiet, and Yennefer was thankful when they reached the wine merchant. She purchased two cases, taking full advantage of having Geralt here to carry them for her. She didn’t even have to ask as he scooped them up in his arms and followed her back towards the shop. 

  
“Look, I know this might be hard on your fragile male ego-" 

  
“No,” he insisted. “It's not that, this is just…unexpected. But I'm happy for you, Yen. Really.” 

  
She smiled at him, a strange sense of relief flooding through her. Honestly, she was hoping this visit wouldn’t be awkward, and she was glad Geralt was taking this well. They walked in silence for a moment, before she turned to him again. 

  
“I want us to be okay with each other, Geralt. I don't want these feelings between us to fester any longer. I've moved on from Skellige, and I hope we can be, well, friendly from here on out.” 

  
“Of course, Yen. I want the same.” The quiet fell upon them again, save for the sound of their footfalls and last remaining shoppers bustling through the square, eager to reach the warmth of their homes. 

  
“So…I guess this means you no longer mind your bed being littered with red hair?” 

  
“And _there’s_ that dry witcher humor I’ve missed so dearly,” she drawled sarcastically. “Thank the Gods, I haven't laughed in ages.” 

  
He offered a small smile in return as she held the door for him. He took a moment to glance around the humble shop. “So you’re really happy here in Vengerberg? In retirement? I never thought I’d see the day.” 

  
“To be honest neither did I, but it's grown on me. Who would have thought after dying, being hunted by the Red Riders, and the world as we know it nearly coming to an end, that I could possibly desire a life of peace?” 

  
“Fair point.” 

  
They headed up the stairs to find the women plating their food. Ciri shot her a knowing smile as Geralt went to set the wine in the kitchen. 

  
“So, did you tell him?” she whispered, glancing over her shoulder. 

  
Yennefer rolled her eyes, “Triss filled you in, did she?” 

  
Ciri's smile only grew, “She did, as a matter of fact. Which could only mean you heeded my sound advice!” 

  
“I did.” 

  
“ _Annnnd?”_

  
“And what?” 

  
“Are you happy you did? And you know, a thank you would be nice too.” 

  
Yennefer shot her a playful glance. “ _Thank you,_ dear daughter.” 

  
She smiled wider, giddy and full of life, and they all sat at the table as though they were some unorthodox family unit. It was rather peculiar, but pleasant in a way. Even if their arrival meant they would soon be leaving for Novigrad, in turn throwing their lives into turmoil once more. 

  
Maybe for now, they could simply enjoy dinner. 

  
Ciri began doling out the wine, a generous pourer she was indeed. She slammed the bottle on the table and held up her glass. 

  
“To Triss and Yen!” 

  
A collective groan sounded around the table, Triss' face as red as the wine and Yennefer wished the floor would swallow her. “Thanks for that, Ciri,” as she raised her glass half heartedly. “So, I figured we could save all of the morose conversation for a later time. Tell us, what's this about a higher vampire?” 

  
Ciri's eyes widened and Geralt just smiled, his eyes twinkling with pride and indisputable happiness, the likes of which Yennefer hadn’t seen in the years she knew him. He tipped back in his chair, content with letting his daughter tell their story of the Beast of Toussaint, and how they managed to apprehend and finish him together, thus receiving accommodations from the Duchess of Toussaint. Ciri was a lively story teller, and she enjoyed listening to their adventures. Triss did too, for she seemed on the edge of her seat the entire time. 

  
“Thank the Gods neither of you were hurt,” she said, pouting slightly. That was just Triss, ever the worrier, but Yennefer had total faith in Ciri and Geralts ability to protect her. 

  
…Even if she too, had worried just a tiny bit.

  
“I can't believe you competed in the tournament,” Yennefer said in amusement to Geralt. “And won, no less. I would have thought you lacked the decorum.” 

  
“To be honest, I did. I just got lucky.” 

  
“No, he was wonderful! They even gave him a fancy suit of armor and a coat of arms which he displays proudly in his manor, along with a rather _risqué_ painting-" 

  
“-That's enough,” he cut in, choking slightly on his wine. 

  
“That's right, and a winery! Oh Geralt it must be lovely,” Triss said dreamily. “Will this be your permanent residence from now on?” 

  
“I think so,” he replied. “I plan to be the first witcher to make it to retirement, seeing as the winery makes me more than enough coin.” 

  
“What about you, Ciri?” Triss asked. “Will you be staying there as well?” 

  
“I'm rather young for retirement I'm afraid,” she said with a laugh. “But I will spend much of my time there, there’s quite a few contracts to be had in Toussaint in all actuality.” 

  
“Actually,” Geralt interjected, clearing his throat. “Seeing how you two are nearly snowed in here, would you want to come up and visit? See the winery, enjoy the sun, after we take care of business in Novigrad?” 

  
“ _Oh_!” Ciri exclaimed. “Oh yes, please Yen, _please!_ It would be like a family vacation!” 

  
Yennefer looked at Triss, who had a small smile on her face. She gave her a half shrug as if to say, _why not?_

  
Yennefer beamed at her, along with her strange little family. “That sounds lovely Geralt, thank you. We would be happy to.” 

  
“OH YES!” Ciri exclaimed as she raised her glass again, “I'll drink to that!” 

  
“It would be nice if we could bring Thunder down there, though it would be a rather cold ride for the first bit-"Yennefer began. 

  
“-Thunder?” Ciri asked curiously. 

  
Yennefer smiled lovingly at the red head, “My horse. Triss’ gift to me, he is a lovely mare, Ciri. I'll take you to see him tomorrow if you like.” 

  
“Well,” Geralt said softly, “Ciri and I took a portal here. And you know how I despise portals. If you wanted, I could ride your horse to Toussaint, meet you all there?” 

  
Yennefer's smile grew. Imagine, burning a hole in the ground through the hills of Toussaint on her stallion, with her lover at her back. “Thank you Geralt, I'll take you up on that. Just don't take him hunting ghouls and drowners, I don't need my horse smelling like rotting flesh.” 

  
“I'll try to abstain from killing along the way.” 

  
They shared a laugh at that, and shared another glass of wine or three throughout the remainder of the evening. Toussaint would be good for them, especially for Triss, after the harrowing ordeal they were likely to face in the coming days. 

  
It gave them something to look forward to, after the inevitable bloodshed. 


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays! Since yall love stoned Triss and Yen so much, I added some nice stoned fluff at the end :) enjoy!

Under pale moon she saw her.  
She couldn’t say what it was that actually pulled her from her slumber; call it a feeling, she was rather in tune with her surroundings. Her brows furrowed in confusion as her limbs stretched the expanse of the bed, feeling for the warmth of a body that wasn’t there.

So she opened her eyes and was met with initial darkness, save for the fire flickering from behind her, casting twisted shadows on the walls. Her heart leapt in her throat when her mind became painfully aware that there was no fire lit in the hearth.

  
She turned over and found her missing lover, she wasn’t tending to any fires of the sort. She stood just before the window, silver light tipping it's glowing beauty over her body, mixing it's hues with the dancing orange that radiated from her outstretched palm, a ball of flame burning bright.

  
And she just stood there, holding that flame, staring out of that window. She couldn’t see her face.

  
“Triss?” she called tentatively, slowly bringing herself to a sitting.

  
No response.

  
“Triss?” she tried again, her voice taking on a firmness, poorly masking her concern. She abandoned the bed and approached her slowly, reaching out for the woman.

  
When her fingers met the soft skin of her arm Triss had jumped and spun around her, her gasp cutting through the air as the flame conjured in her palm dissipated in an instant, bathing the room in darkness once again. Yennefer waved a hand behind her, lighting up the fireplace so she may see Triss' face.

  
Confusion etched in Triss’ features, she took a wary glance around the room. To the bed, trailing to the floor, where her own feet stood on the cool marble. Back to the fireplace where new flame danced bright, and finally, settling on Yennefer, her eyes full of questions.

  
“’W-What am I doing here?” she whispered, worrying her lip in her teeth as her eyes went to her hand, no doubt feeling the remnants of her magic buzzing under her skin.

  
“It's alright,” Yennefer said softly. She ran her hands up Triss' arms, she knew how Triss needed the contact during her episodes. It helped to ground her. She let them wander over her shoulders, slowly to her back, and she pulled her to her, letting her head rest against her chest so she may listen to the beat of her heart here in reality. “You were just sleepwalking.”

  
Triss' breath shuddered slightly as she slowly returned the embrace, nuzzling further into her chest as though trying to hide there from the world.

  
“I'm…I'm worried, Yenna.”

  
“I know,” Yennefer hushed. “I think you’re just stressed with Geralt and Ciri's arrival, and the fact that we'll be leaving for Novigrad soon. You’re alright…”

  
She said nothing, only gripping Yennefer tighter as a way of response.

  
“Here,” Yennefer said after some time, loosening in the embrace. “Let me get you some more herb.”

  
Triss seemed to reluctantly let her go, and it tugged at Yennefer's heart the way her eyes fell as Yennefer stepped away. But she would be quick. Triss settled back into the bed as Yennefer brought her a freshly packed pipe. She was about to hold it to Triss' lips when the red head suddenly let out a strangled cry in what sounded like pain. She doubled over slightly, hissing as she brought her amputated arm into herself, cradling it with her other hand.

  
“What is it? What's wrong?” Yennefer said in a panic, setting the pipe on the bedside table and placing a hand on Triss' back while the other gently reached for her arm.

  
Triss' face twisted in a grimace as she let out a few strained breaths. “I-It's ghost pains, I think. In my arm. I've heard about it happening to soldiers who h-have lost their limbs.” Her words came out in a pained rush.

  
“Let me see,” Yennefer said softly, as she took Triss' bad arm. Triss screwed her eyes shut but complied, her arm trembling slightly. Yennefer held her warm hands to the end of the wrist, where her hand had been removed, and began to massage it deeply. She mumbled an incantation and healing magic began to flow from her finger tips as she massaged the limb, and the relief was near instantaneous. The line between her brows disappeared, and she let out a soft sigh of relief. 

  
“There,” Yennefer whispered. “Better?”

  
“Yes, th-thank you,” was the small, meek response.

  
“You _are_ stressed,” Yennefer said after a few moments of silence, as she continued to knead the hardened flesh of her healed skin. “It's normal, Triss. It won't be like this much longer.”

  
Triss watched her ministrations, her eyes slightly distant as though lost in thought. “Would it be… _wrong_ , of me, if I said let's stay here? Stay far, far away from him?”

  
Yennefer sighed and let her hands fall, now satisfied that Triss' pains were gone. “I understand why you wouldn’t want to go, Triss. It's not going to be easy, to face him. But I don't think your nightmares will get better until we do, until we know for _certain_ he can't hurt anyone, ever again.”

  
Triss nodded, her expression sad, frightened. “I know,” she responded quietly, and oh how Yennefer wished she could tell her they could stay. That they could flee to Toussaint, as far away from Radovid and the North as they could possibly get. But Radovid already proved that no matter how far they went, he would follow. If not in flesh, then in Triss' mind. 

  
She reached for the pipe then and held it to the red heads lips, who then lit it and inhaled the smoke generously, hungrily.

  
“Again,” Yennefer whispered after she had exhaled. She complied, taking another deep inhale, her muscles visibly relaxing as the herb began to take effect. Another sigh of relief on her exhale, her shoulders rolled back, her eyes losing the sharpened fear that had once filled them.

  
She let said eyes slip shut. “ _Hmm_ , thank you.”  
Yennefer took a hit herself and placed everything back in the box. She settled back in the pillows and held out her arm in which Triss gladly crawled into, draping a leg over her own, pressing her body into her as close as she could get.

  
She expected Triss to nestle in and try and drift back off into sleep, but she began to shift in a very familiar way against Yennefer's thigh.

  
“Triss,” she chuckled as the red head moved on top of her. “You should be sleeping.”

  
“ _Shhh_ ,” Triss giggled in her inebriated state. The herb was good for her, it elevated her mood and took the weight away. “Just a little…”

  
She dipped lower and teasingly circled Yennefer's nipple with her tongue, the warm muscle spreading delicious heat to her nether regions.

  
“A-alright, I won't argue,” Yennefer breathed as she arched into her lover.

* * *

“ _Wow!”_

  
Yennefer smirked at Ciri's reaction upon seeing her newly prized possession. “He's impressive, isn't he?”

  
“More like _gorgeous!”_ Ciri marveled as she ran a gloved hand up the mare's snout. Thunder huffed in approval, his powerful hooves padding on the dirt. “Looks like he's full of energy.”

  
“Go ahead, take him for a ride, I’m sure he'd enjoy it.”

  
“I'd love to!” Ciri said excitedly as she grabbed the lead as Yennefer held the door. She watched as her daughter mounted the horse and kicked off, taking Thunder down the road before turning back, repeating this a few times. She couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips as she witnessed the gleeful laugh that had Ciri looking almost like a child again.

  
Where had the time gone?

  
Ciri did a couple of circles around her before dismounting. “He's a wonderful ride,” she said breathlessly. “He should enjoy the hills of Toussaint.”

  
“As will I,” Yennefer said warmly as she led them back to the stables. 

  
Triss had opted to stay back at the loft with Geralt as Yennefer took Ciri to meet Thunder. They had agreed not to open the shop today, not only to spend time with both Ciri and Geralt but to also get their stuff ready to leave the following day. Triss had expressed some concern of her lack of coin and their upcoming trip to Toussaint, but Yennefer wouldn’t hear of it. She was wealthy, to say the least, and what was hers was now Triss'. Though she knew it would take a lot of convincing before Triss got used to the idea.

  
So after a hearty breakfast she left Triss to get their bags ready. Triss had expressed her desires to speak with Geralt as well, to apologize to him properly for everything that occurred between them. If she was being honest, Triss _was_ the antagonist in the entire fiasco that was their love triangle; she did owe Geralt an apology, for not only taking advantage of him and his amnesia but lying about her feelings as she did so. Yennefer didn’t want Triss to feel so bad about herself, and she knew Geralt was over it too, but Triss insisted she would not feel right about it until she did so.

  
So she bid her a short farewell, and set out into the morning sun with Ciri. The day was slightly warmer, a clear sky allowing the warmth of the sun, and the wind proved milder too. They toured the market together so Yennefer may pick up a few things for dinner that night, before stopping off at the stables.

  
“Triss must really love you,” Ciri smirked as she dusted off her hands once Thunder was safely back in his stable. “She knows you well, he's perfectly suited for you.”

  
“She does,” Yennefer said softly. “I should thank you again, Ciri. If it wasn’t for you, I don't know if I ever would have had the courage to come clean regarding my feelings.”

  
“I think you would have come around on your own, _eventually,”_ she teased, bumping shoulders with her as they made their way back to the loft. “Did you find it a little weird, with Geralt? I understand you both parted with a little tension.”

  
“Not as weird as I thought it would be,” Yennefer said honestly. “I was already over everything that happened even before Triss came along. Then her recovery took up much of my time and thoughts, and now I have this new relationship with her. So seeing Geralt really didn’t have an effect, if anything, it's good to see him without all of the drama and feelings that used to come with it.”

  
“And Triss?”

  
“Well I can't speak for her. I know she still carries a lot of guilt. It will take some time, but she is getting better.”

  
“I can tell, just in the few weeks I’ve been gone,” Ciri said with a smile in her voice. “she seems better. Happier. You as well, if I'm being honest. I told you she would come back to us.”

  
“Let's hope we can still say that after this whole mess with Radovid,” Yennefer said in a low voice, glancing around them. “Part of me wishes I could leave her here. I know she is fearful for what is to come. I want to protect her from that, but…”

  
“But you know, she needs this more than any of us.”

  
“Exactly,” she sighed.

  
“Triss is strong, Yen,” Ciri whispered as they approached the shop. “As strong as any of us, maybe more so now. She might not believe it, but I know her. She’s going to be alright.”

  
“We'll be there if she's not. I suppose that's all we can do.”

  
They reached the shop and headed upstairs, finding Geralt and Triss in the living area. She had removed her gauntlet and given it to him, and he was turning it in his large hands and inspecting the piece. She had a small sense of pride, the way people seemed in awe at the craftsmanship. She would have to do something nice for Ailbert and his wife, to express her gratitude.

  
“You’re back!” Triss said happily, her face lighting up upon seeing the two women enter the loft.

  
“We are,” Yennefer replied, swooping down to press a chaste kiss to Triss' lips. She turned to Geralt, “What do you think?” she asked, gesturing to the gauntlet.

  
“Who crafted this? It's got to be master craftsmanship,” he said as he inspected it closer. “Triss told me it's enchanted?”

  
“It is, we have a master crafter here in Vengerberg by the name of Ailbert. He does wonderful work, though I'm sure I don't need to tell you that. I see your change in armor, I assume Toussaint has quite the smith?”

  
“A grandmaster by the name of Zdravko,” he said as he handed the piece back to Triss, who promptly put it back on. “If you want, we could take it in, see about an upgrade?”

  
“Oh no,” Triss said hurriedly, “It's wonderful the way it is-"

  
“-Well hold on,” Yennefer interjected, “Ailbert certainly wouldn’t take it as an affront if you did. If it can be improved, we should look into it. After all, it will be your new hand the rest of your life.”

  
“Alright,” Triss said with a small smile, as she admired her gauntlet again. Yennefer caught her doing so quite often, it made her realize just how much Triss really did appreciate the gift, perhaps needed it. She was seldom without it, even when they were lazing around the house together. Understandable, it aided her in getting dressed and doing other menial tasks, but the only time she didn’t have it on was in bed. Yennefer would always shower her arm with attention each night, she wanted Triss to know she was beautiful even without it.

  
“Would you assist me with dinner?” she asked her lovingly. It was far too early to think of cooking, but they could at least have it prepped. It would do well to turn in early tonight, for all of them, for bright and too soon the dawn would come, and they would be on their way to another chaotic plot of danger. It was almost bittersweet, being together again the lot of them. What a shame it was that they only seemed to get together under such strenuous circumstances. 

  
If they made it to Toussaint, if they come out of this unscathed, it would be the first time they could come together in a situation of pleasantness.

  
How cruel the universe was, for their lives to be at peace they must first be at risk.

  
It was almost poetic, but Yennefer detested poetry.

  
“Sure,” was the lively response she received. At least Triss seemed happy today, a far cry from how she surely would be in the coming days. She got up from her seat and followed, leaving Ciri and Geralt to talk in the living area. More so Ciri, while Geralt played the avid listener he was.

  
“Here,” Yennefer said softly as she set down the fresh roast in front of her. “Season this?”

  
“Of course.”

  
She watched Triss hum happily to herself as she began to ground the fresh spices; she tried to busy herself with chopping vegetables but her eyes kept wandering back to the woman. She couldn’t help but wonder what she and Geralt talked about, but she had to assume it was good news by Triss' demeanor.

  
When she couldn’t take her curiosity anymore, she glanced back at Geralt and Ciri who were still deep in conversation, before going to the red head and placing a gentle hand at the small of her back.

  
“How are you?” she whispered vaguely, realizing how ridiculous she sounded.

  
Triss chuckled. “I could feel your eyes burning holes in me,” she replied in amusement, smirking at her from over her shoulder. “I'm fine, Yenna. Great even. Geralt and I spoke of what happened, and I apologized for the major part I played in all of this. He assured me he holds no ill will towards me and…and I feel better.”

  
Yennefer smiled, one of relief. “I'm glad to hear it.” She gave her back a comforting rub, leaning over her shoulder to press a gentle kiss to her cheek. “You can let go of any guilt you harbor now that we are all on the same page.”

  
Triss hummed sweetly. “There's lots I need to let go of,” she said slowly, “but any progress is good progress right?”

  
“That's right,” Yennefer assured her, before resuming her task with the vegetables.  
With dinner prepped and their bags packed for the following morning, it was agreed to enjoy their time together before the following day arrived. They went over the important details of course; they were to take a portal to the chameleon in the morning, Geralt and Ciri had already sent word to Dandelion to ensure there would be rooms available. As for Philippa meeting them there, it was yet to be seen after the blow up that occurred between her and Yennefer, and as much as she hated it, she was somewhat kicking herself for reacting the way she did, potentially screwing them out of Philippa's assistance. They settled on Geralt finding Dijkstra at his infamous bathhouse, and they would have to go from there, whether Philippa showed or not. If they had neither Dijkstra nor Philippa's aid, they could very well kiss this regicide goodbye.

  
Philippa hated Radovid, surely more than she despised Yennefer. She would have to rely on this knowledge to ease her festering anxieties.

  
The weight of what they were about to go through with was beginning to set in. This wasn’t fighting some other unhinged magical force, or a cursed monster of the sort. They were plotting the assassination of the King of Redania, a man who controlled the whole of the North, surrounded by an army willing to die for said King who may possibly be as brainwashed as he was, and certainly as dangerous as long as they were controlled by him.

  
Something like this could only go one of three ways; either the plan worked, miraculously, whether that be with or without casualties or injuries, or they would find themselves rotting back in Deireadh Prison, with a slim chance of pulling off another escape as they did last time. Or worse, they could all be killed on the spot, either gutted in the streets or more likely burned on a pyre in the square for all to see.

  
They moved onto lighter topics for the remainder of the day; not only for Triss' sake, but for her own. Though none of them would dare say it out loud, but this may be the last moment they had to just be happy, to enjoy themselves, even if it was difficult with their uncertain future looming over them.  
Drinking was out of the question, no matter how tempting it may be. If the others would like to indulge they may feel free, but Yennefer wanted to wake early with a clear mind. It wouldn’t serve her well to have a hangover the day they left for the dreaded city of Novigrad.

  
To her surprise the others decided to remain steadfast in sobriety as well. That, or they were saving their thirst for Dandelion's inn. But Yennefer would rather save the celebrations until they were safely back in Vengerberg.

  
But that didn’t mean they couldn’t have fun. They decided on a few rounds of Gwent, though it became apparent rather quickly that playing against Geralt was a lost cause, the man never lost. Yennefer was quite impressed by the new Skellige faction he had acquired in Toussaint, and enjoyed his stories of the tournament there.

  
Despite losing miserably, they all had a good time regardless. Geralt even agreed to use Yennefer's decks after it was clear they wouldn’t be getting anywhere otherwise, which evened the playing field a little. 

  
It was nice to feel so close with others again. She hadn’t realized she had been isolating herself these past few months, too caught up in trying to build a life for herself she neglected the relationships she once had. Of course, it had been by choice, because she truly believed it would make her happy. It was her way of defending herself from the problems that had arisen, but in actuality she had missed them. They were the closest thing to family she ever had, the only people she could ever trust.

  
To do something as simple as play a game, to enjoy a nice meal, without the emotional tension that once tore the three of them apart and that threw poor Ciri into the middle of it all. 

  
If they made it through, things would be far different. Yennefer vowed it to herself and to her loved ones.

  
As reluctant as they all were to end the positivity and retreat back to their respective rooms, they knew it had to be done. It was early, leaving them plenty of time to get some much needed rest for the early morning ahead.

  
She and Triss bid them goodnight and shut the door to their chambers behind them, both of them breathing a sigh of what could only be construed as fatigue that has not yet come. Triss gave her a tight smile, barely masking the sadness that lurked behind it. It pulled at Yennefer's heart, and her feet responded in kind as she went to the woman, who eagerly fell into her open arms.

  
She pulled back her hair and kissed the soft spot behind her ear. Triss sighed at the gentle motion, Yennefer could feel tense muscles begin to slowly loosen as though her lips carried some magic ability. She supposed they did, when she adored her this much. It went both ways, it seemed, as she recalled how effortlessly Triss always managed to bring her back to the present, to melt away her anger and frustrations.

  
She nipped at Triss' earlobe, eliciting a giggle from the redhead, one that made her heart soar as she took the sound as one of success. She removed her gauntlet for her, kissing the soft skin that lie underneath that made Triss blush every time. 

  
“Get undressed,” she murmured into her forearm as she peppered it with her healing kisses. “Tonight, we're going to smoke. A lot. And I'm going to make you smile.”

  
Triss smiled even at that, just at the words she spoke. “You always do, it's not as though you have to try.”

  
Yennefer let her hand linger on her cheek a moment, swiping a thumb along her lip before turning to ready their herb and undress herself. She turned to find Triss already in the bed, a sweet smile adorning perfect heart shaped lips. She slipped in the sheets beside her, and held the pipe to her lips. 

  
She took a generous inhale, the room silent save for the sound of their soft exhales and the faint crack of Triss' fire magic. She packed the pipe again, and repeated the process, until the room was full of a pleasant haze, their faces flushed and their eyes now glazed with a newfound calm.

  
Triss was grinning at her, rather ridiculously in Yennefer's opinion. She couldn’t help but smile with her as she placed the pipe down and pulled Triss into her lap, just as she had done before. She had a strange urge to trace her features with the tip of her finger, along arched eyebrows and down a pointed nose, across the soft pink lines where her lips met skin.

  
Triss giggled and batted her hand away playfully. “You’re tickling me.”

  
“You’re just so beautiful,” Yennefer responded, as though the answer made sense. “I can't help but touch you, it's hard to believe it could be real.”

  
“Coming from you,” Triss said with a smirk “Have you seen yourself? You're what bards sing of.”

  
“I'm what _Dandelion_ sings of,” she corrected. “And not by choice.”

  
Triss began to laugh, rendering Yennefer slightly bewildered. “What is it?”

  
“Oh, it's nothing,” she said through her laughter, dabbing at her eye. “I just can’t help but wonder what ballad he will come up with when he finds out…”

  
She trailed off and waited for it to dawn on Yennefer. When her face contorted into mild horror it only served to make Triss laugh harder. “Oh _Gods_ we're never going to hear the end of it. I almost feel worse for Geralt, I'm sure Dandelion will have no shortage of jests to make at his expense.”

  
“I hope we get our own song,” Triss said almost wistfully, and Yennefer couldn’t help but scoff at the notion.

  
“I wouldn’t mind if we got a song, though I'm not sure I want it written and performed by Dandelion. I don't find him to be very tasteful.”

  
“I suppose we will have to take what we can get,” Triss said, her eyes slipping shut a moment when Yennefer's nails raked at her scalp. “ _Mmm_ …let's play a game.”

  
Yennefer's grin grew wider as she reached for the pipe. “What sort of game?”

  
“What's your favorite thing about me?”

  
Yennefer chuckled. “What sort of game is this?”

  
“Come _on_ , humor me.”

  
“ _You_ humor me,” Yennefer said, amused. “How can I possibly pick one single thing?”

  
“Alright, we'll start with something easy. Physically, what do you like most?”

  
“When you do that thing with your mouth-"

  
“- _Yenna!”_

  
They laughed together then, the herb making most things hilarious. Yennefer sighed and twirled Triss' thick hair through her fingers as she pondered the question. She watched the red tendrils snake through her grasp, soft and healthy. “Your hair,” she said simply. “It's beautiful, unlike any I’ve seen. I’ve always been jealous of your hair. It's so soft, the color so vibrant. It feels nice in my hands.”

  
Triss grinned up at her. “I thought you might say that. I would never protest to you playing with my hair, love.”

  
“Alright,” Yennefer said as she continued her ministrations. “Your turn. What's my best physical trait?”

  
“Your eyes,” Triss purred, needing no time to think of her answer. “They hold so much life to them, and there’s a tenderness there that always softened your features even when you were angry or stressed. The fact that they are naturally yours make them all the more special. They’re so wonderfully unique.”

  
Yennefer passed her the pipe, the way Triss made smoking look so sensual made her stomach flip. “Alright, let's go deeper,” she said when she finished. “Your favorite thing about my personality.”

  
“ _Hmm_ ,” Yennefer hummed as she debated her answer. She thought back to all the years she had known the woman, all of the things they had been through together. The things that Triss was still facing herself. “Your resilience,” Yennefer decided in a soft voice. “The things you’ve seen, the challenges you’ve faced. Even the terrible cards you’ve been dealt, you never let it make you hard. Not like it would’ve me. You’re…you’re sweet, and kind, and you still try and see the good in everyone. You truly have a heart of gold, and I believe it is the only of it's kind.”

  
Triss’ face flushed into a beautiful shade of scarlet. It was clear that Triss had doubted herself throughout her recovery, still did in the wake of their new plan of attack. Yennefer could only hope she would heed her words, and believe it herself one day. 

  
“Your turn,” Yennefer urged softly before taking another hit.

  
“Your generosity,” was the quiet reply, the redheads gaze unwavering.

  
Yennefer was slightly taken aback by her response, she in no way ever saw herself as a generous person. If anything, she considered herself rather selfish most of her life. “Really? What made you think of generosity?”

  
Triss reached for her then, cupping her cheek in her hand. The gesture was soft, caring, the warmth of her touch was enticing. “You gave up all of your time for me. Put your entire life on hold, to take care of _me_. You could’ve washed your hands of it, and passed me over to Philippa. But you didn’t. You spent every waking moment by my side, exhausting your energy just to bring me a small bit of comfort. You put clothes on my back. You spent your hard earned coin on my prosthetic, knowing very well it may not have brought me any joy. You give and give and _give_ , never asking for anything in return. And not just with me; you took Ciri in, gave her a home and a life, someone she could look up to. You gave your life trying to save Geralt from that mob. Your generosity knows no bounds, Yenna, you must know this.”

  
Yennefer smiled, turning her head and pressing a lingering kiss to her palm. “I suppose you’re right, I guess I never thought of it.”

  
“And your protective nature,” Triss added with a smirk. “I feel safe with you-"

  
“-that's _two_ things,” Yennefer interjected. “You’re cheating at your own game, Miss Merigold.”

  
Triss chuckled at being called out. “I know, I can't help that there’s so many wonderful things about you. I’ve had years to think about it, after all.”

  
Yennefer leaned forward and pressed her lips to the woman, making every effort to pour her feelings into the action. When she pulled back Triss was blushing again, at the outburst of passion. “I will always protect you,” she said seriously. “I know you can take care of yourself, but I want you to know that I will let no harm come to you ever again. I would burn the earth to ruins before I let that happen. I love you, with everything I am, with everything I have.”

  
Triss let out a soft whimper, pushing herself from Yennefer's lap to throw her arms around her neck. She held her tightly, as though Yennefer was all that held her together, trying to magnify the shelter she found within her arms. 

  
“Tell me we'll be alright,” she whispered into her neck. “Tell me everything will be okay, that you and I have endless years together. That we will put this behind us, once and for all, and that we can be like this for always.”

  
“We will,” Yennefer promised, gripping tightly to her as well. “So much time, sweet thing. I swear to you, we'll be okay. Better than okay.” She pulled back slightly, pressing a light kiss to her freckled nose. “Soon we will be in the lush green hills of Toussaint. We will make love in the sunset, sampling the finest wines and delicacies. Listening to the drabble that is there way of speaking.”

  
Triss laughed at that. “ _like a lover gauchely grasping but one fair teat, his half strewn twixt joyous victory and bitter defeat!”_ she recited in a poor Toussaint accent, causing Yennefer to nearly keel over in a fit of laughter, so deep it began to hurt her belly, but it felt good.

  
“My _Gods_ , it must be so difficult to speak in such a way so constant. It's hard to understand what they’re even talking about.”

  
“I know!” Triss cried as her own laughter subsided. “Honestly, what does that even mean?”

  
“Grabbing one breast isn’t as satisfying as grabbing two?”

  
“ _Hmmm_ , I don't know Yenna, perhaps we should test the theory.”

  
Yennefer knew she would gladly oblige. She was overjoyed their night was able to end on such a high note, with promises of a new life filled to the brim with undying love and unending laughter. She couldn’t wait until their trip to Toussaint, couldn’t wait for the nightmare to be over.

  
She held Triss closer than ever that night, at least it had felt that way. She knew there was nothing she wouldn’t do for the woman, and would let nothing stand in their way of the life they had laid out before them.

  
Radovid couldn’t possibly know what he was up against. He would pay for his crimes against every mage, sorceress, and magical beings whose lives he had stolen so cruelly from them.

  
Yes, he would pay dearly, for what he did to her love.

  
Her only.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I finally finished writing this story! And as promised, I will post the remaining chapters every single day as my gift to you for being such wonderful readers :) I hope you enjoy the rest of this story!

Yennefer missed her home.

She missed the smell of fresh brewed tea, drifting it's way into her senses as she was lulled from slumber, mixed with the smoky aroma of seared meats. The sound of the fire crackling, oh and the warmth it brought her. The little things she seemed to always take for granted, every time she was forced to be on the move.

She missed her shop and her patrons; Ailbert with his twinkling eyes and bushy whiskers. Busying herself in said shop with her lover by her side, thereafter following her to the snow filled garden to witness her dazzling display of magic. The long nights after a spent day, tangled in the arms of her best friend, of the one person who brought her a happiness otherwise unfounded.

Right about this time, they might still be in bed, or Triss would be up making the tea, searing the meat. At this time, Yennefer would be waking with the same eagerness that greeted her each morning since that fateful night she had first run her hands down the curves of Triss' body, alighting a fire within her that she knew could never be doused.

Alas, these were all of the things she _should_ be doing.

Instead she found herself behind the Chameleon, the inn nestled in the seething cesspool that was the city of Novigrad, surrounded by men that would tear our their organs, that would burn their flesh until they were nothing but piles of soot and teeth. Here she was hunted, along with Ciri and Triss, even Geralt. He was always interpreted as a freak, but now, she wouldn't be surprised if some of these witch hunters decided to have a go at him as well.

There was a time where they might be able to get around Novigrad using the back streets, the dark dingy alleys as long as they timed it right and disguised themselves as necessary. Though since Triss' escape with the mages, along with the escape of both she and Rita, it would seem Radovid had doubled down on his efforts to exterminate anyone with even a whiff of magic about them.

The guards seemed to have doubled, as did the paranoid whispers and glances that seemed plastered on the faces of every passerby, surely wondering if they would be next. Ciri had conjured the portal for them; her knowledge of travel was vastly more precise than any of theirs, and they couldn't risk missing their mark. It would have been impossible to try and enter the city from outside, as every gate from north to south was under strict lock down and guard. And they couldn't very well run around the streets, one could barely turn a corner without bumping into a witch hunter.

Ciri's accuracy was detrimental, and she didn't disappoint. With their hoods pulled firmly over their heads, they made for the back door. They just had to hope Dandelion had taken Ciri's warning of their arrival seriously, though the sound of music filling their ears told them it was just another day at the inn. She had hoped he would have had enough sense to keep the place relatively empty, but it looked as though they would have to make the best of the situation.

Stepping over the threshold, they were met with the common happenings that could be find at any inn; the thick acrid smoke, the stinging scents of perfumes far too cheap and applied far too liberally, and of course, the liquor. It took her aback at just how many drunkards were present at such ludicrous hour, the dawn had barely broken through the gloomy horizon. It just went to show how despondent the citizens must be, opting to hide away in a dark tavern in search of their solutions in the bottom of a tankard.

Winter had hit Novigrad as well, which only added to the doleful atmosphere. The streets were just as dirty, while Vengerberg at least kept its charm even in the heart of winter, Novigrad was a lifeless, slushy grey mess. Her lungs felt foul just inhaling the air that hung heavy around them. There was no life here.

They kept their heads low as they pushed past the people by the back door. The music was playing, but there was no joy in the inn. Perhaps things got a little more lively in the evening, but it was clear the morning customers were only here because they felt they had no choice.

_"Geralt!"_

The sound of Dandelions unmistakeably jovial voice cut through the bards tune, startling all of them slightly. She could feel her irritation already beginning to take hold, leave it to Dandelion to always be the one to lack the sense in their group, the man insisted on being the center of attention and apparently, drawing the attention of everyone within a hundred foot radius.

She saw him waving frantically from the bar, and she wished she were invisible. The four of them immediately did a check of their surroundings, and while they had a few glances lingering in their direction, none looked as though they could be bothered to do much more than stare.

He strode over to them with a bounce in his step. He was dressed in his usual frills and whistles, the feather in his cap fluttering ridiculously with every movement. The grin on his face seemed to stand out when contrasted by the morose setting around them. His mouth opened again when his eyes fell on her, and she felt her patience officially break.

"Yenna-!"

 _"Dandelion!"_ Geralt growled sharply as he grabbed him by the ruffles, the look on Dandelions face was rather hilarious had the situation not been so serious. _"Quiet!"_

Yennefer felt Triss still next to her; she had been tense the entire morning, even more so since arriving into Novigrad, almost like a small animal that had been kicked one too many times.

She just wanted to get her upstairs.

"Nice to see you, Dandelion," she seethed as she glanced around them once more. "But I did not miss your density. Where are our rooms?"

"I-uh-right," Dandelion stuttered. His eyes shot to Geralt as he slapped his hands away. "Hands off, Geralt, I just had this pressed."

Geralt only scowled at him and turned on his heel, heading up the stairs without waiting for Dandelions direction.

The bard visibly gulped as a nervous smile played on his lips. "Follow me," he muttered, his voice much quieter than it had been thus far. Yennefer scanned the room for what felt like the thousandth time; you never could know what ears may be listening, what eyes may be following.

It seemed as though the upstairs was empty, it would seem the bard had enough sense to not rent out any of the rooms. They would require their privacy, and it would not do well for anyone to overhear their conversations, or to be aware of their presence at all. Geralt was awaiting at the landing with his arms crossed in front of him, a sour look on his face.

"What's got your boxers in a twist?" Dandelion asked incredulously.

"You nearly advertised the presence of one of the most wanted sorceresses in the North," Geralt said in a low voice. "Pretty stupid, even for you Dandelion."

"Jeez, sorry, I was just-"

"What room should I take?"

"That one," Dandelion said quickly, pointing to the closest one as though he was eager to get rid of Geralt and his scowling mood. He rolled his eyes when the door had sounded shut, and they continued down the hall.

"It's good to see you, Dandelion," Ciri said with an apologetic smile. "Geralt will come around, but you have to be careful. There's no place more dangerous for us than here in Novigrad."

"It's good to see you too," Dandelion said sheepishly, though he still didn't manage to squeak out a genuine apology. "Things are bad here. Even my business is suffering! Have you seen the sods that lay about downstairs? This was supposed to be a place of class, of theater, of-"

"-my room, Dandelion? I'm afraid we had an early start and it's not safe to linger in the halls."

Dandelion looked utterly taken aback that none seemed to care for the state of his affairs. "Well, alright, you can take this one," he said as he gestured to the one beside Geralt's. He turned to Yennefer, "No need to ask, I already have the Ruby Suite ready for you. I know how your needs seem to border on royalty-"

"-Geralt and I will come find you there shortly after we settle in," Ciri quickly interjected before Yennefer could fire back a scathing retort.

"Triss," Dandelion started, "I have a room available just on the third floor."

"That won't be necessary," Yennefer interrupted, causing Dandelions face to twist in confusion. "Let's go, Triss."

They turned to leave a rather befuddled Dandelion in the hall as they made for the top floor. "Well, _ooooo-kay_ , I suppose it's good you're not at each others throats anymore. Especially over Geralt, I mean really, the dish rags have more personality than him-"

Another glare from Yennefer effectively stopped his ramblings, though he didn't move from his spot as his gaze continued to follow them up the stairs.

"B-but where will you sleep?" he called up to them, receiving no answer other than the sound of the door shutting in it's frame.

"Huh," he shrugged. Finding himself alone again, he started back downstairs, ordering the bards to play in his words, "a less depressing snore fest of a ballad", as though they were the reason for the morose atmosphere that plagued his beloved inn.

Yennefer breathed a sigh of relief upon finding themselves in solitude again, away from Dandelion and his small dose personality, the pounding of the music in her ears and the stench of drunkards and sadness.

"He really is thick sometimes," she groaned. "I suppose it played to our advantage this time, he didn't even come to the rather obvious conclusion that you and I are an item, not that I would ever complain. I can practically _hear_ him now, Gods I'm sure I'll be strangling him by the time we leave Novigrad-"

She was suddenly aware of the one sided conversation; she turned to find Triss, peering out of the window through a small crack in the curtain, as though paranoid of what lay on the other side. Actually, that wasn't too far from the truth. It was a very real possibility that they could have been followed, Radovid already proved he had eyes everywhere.

He had followed Triss hundreds of miles, just for _chance_ at taking her captive. She believed there were no lengths the man wouldn't go to exterminate every last magical being standing, this especially applied to one's with such status as the former members of the Lodge.

She met her at the window, leaning forward to take a glance herself of the outside world. Bleak, downtrodden, and a disturbing amount of guards marched through the winding streets they could see, but none seemed to be headed their way or taking any interest of the Inn.

"I hate this place," Triss said softly. "I see the red uniforms, the witch hunters with dimeritium cuffs dangling from their belts and I still feel the burn around my own wrists. We are not safe here…"

Her voice sounded defeated, akin to the tone she took back when she felt so small in Yennefer's bed, back when she would cry herself to sleep in Yennefer's arms not so long ago.

Yennefer said nothing, but she grabbed Triss' elbow and tugged lightly, pulling her from the window, as if shutting the curtains allowed them to pretend they weren't really here. Triss reluctantly turned to face her, and Yennefer took her good hand and pressed a light kiss to her palm.

Her skin was like ice.

"You're cold," Yennefer stated as though it wasn't obvious. With an elegant flick of her wrist she had the fireplace roaring to life, and she kissed her skin again.

"It's this city," Triss whispered as her eyes focused on the fire, entranced. "I can't wait to kill him and be done with it."

She hadn't yet heard Triss speak so candidly about the murder of the King. Triss was a healer, it was in her blood to give life rather than take it. Triss never was one for chaos, especially in her youth. She had that spark in her eye that wanted to change the world, bring peace where there was war. Over time that spark had faded, ever since Sodden Hill, when Triss Merigold had learned a violent lesson of the blood thirst that plagued mankind.

But she still sought to fight against it, continued to give life where it was needed. That's how Yennefer knew it was in her nature, it wasn't something that could simply be switched off.

"I promise you, we will go home," Yennefer said soothingly as she led Triss to the lounge by the fire. "I cannot say in certainty that it will be successful. I cannot say we will even get close enough to him to make it happen. But you and I, we _will_ go home, we will take that trip to Toussaint. Together."

Triss gave her a small smile at that, leaning forward to press her forehead to Yennefer's. "Thank you for doing this with me. For everything you've done for me. You never had to, but you did it anyway, I owe you my life, Yenna."

Yennefer placed her hands on both of the armrests of the chair, pushing herself into Triss until her back was flush against the leather, swiping her tongue hungrily along Triss' bottom lip, just begging for her to open up to her. She was accepted with equal fervor, their saliva mixing in an intoxicating way. When she pushed harder she met no resistance, and her nails dug involuntarily into the chair as though matching the clench in her stomach.

She would never tire of kissing the redhead, it would always be deliciously addictive.

Footsteps sounded in the hall just outside, an irritating reminder that they were no longer in their home, thus preventing Yennefer from doing the many things she wished to do in this moment. Gone were the moments of touches born of impulse, the privacy they once had to be as dirty as they pleased behind closed doors because even though the door was shut firmly in it's frame here, they were not truly alone.

Yennefer groaned unhappily into the kiss, quietly, as the footsteps drew nearer to where they resided.

"I suppose that's them," Yennefer murmured into her lips, giving her a final peck before straightening just as the expected knock sounded on the wood.

Reluctantly she tore herself from the warmth of Triss sat in front of her along with the heat of the fire that danced across her back. It was with a heavy sigh that she sauntered to the door and opened it carefully, to make sure the being on the other side was indeed a friend.

Her eyes narrowed automatically. It most certainly was _not_ a friend.

Philippa regarded her with a quick once over. "Yennefer," she said simply, her voice even and devoid of emotion.

"Philippa," she responded coldly, before remembering what a miracle it was that Philippa had shown up in the first place. She forced herself to open the door wider, a sign of invitation, for she knew they needed Philippa, no matter how much it pained her to admit.

Philippa swooped in, opting to stand with her arms folded in front of her rather than taking a seat. "Triss," she said to the still seated red head, who had turned in place to see who had come knocking.

"Hello, Phil," Triss said with a small smile. "How did you know we were here?"

"I've been keeping an eye out," she said cryptically, as to be expected. "I see Geralt and Cirilla have found their way to you. I assume you've filled them in on our predicament?"

"As much as we can," Triss said as she worried her lip. "We still don't have anything solid-Geralt and Ciri are getting settled, then they should be here any minute."

The room was silent for a moment, Yennefer stood eyeing the exchange, Philippa with her as she pretended to be interested in the wall, while Triss sat with a tense look on her face.

"Thank you, for coming Phil," Triss said quietly. "We need all the help we can get."

For a moment Yennefer was sure Philippa would have a biting remark ready, something along the lines of her not doing this for them, but for herself. But her response actually surprised her.

"I find myself rather… _regretful_ , for my behavior the last time we saw each other. It doesn't befit a sorceress to act so childish, resorting to insults because one feels insulted. I let my emotions get the better of me, and for that I apologize."

It wasn't the most heartfelt apology, but an apology nonetheless, which was more than she could have ever expected from Philippa.

Philippa tore her gaze from the wall she had focused on, turning to Triss instead. "I was wrong, to say you were a waste of my time. You were a worthy apprentice, and I do not regret our time spent together. I'm sorry it has to end on such terms, but I wish you well in the future you choose."

Now _that_ was surprising.

Triss' smile was underlined with relief; no doubt reminiscent of the time she witnessed her former and current lover nearly kill one another in Yennefer's living room. If Yennefer was being honest, she too had been on edge since Philippa's entrance, though her apologies abated some of her worry.

"Thank you," Triss said in earnest. "I wish you luck in your own endeavors as well."

Triss was suddenly looking expectantly at Yennefer, who took a moment to register what she was trying to convey. She had been too caught up in her own shock upon hearing Philippa Eilhart ever admit to regretting any course of action she took, and she cleared her throat as her thoughts caught up with her.

"I too, apologize for the way I reacted," Yennefer said, albeit just a _little_ reluctantly. "What I did was unacceptable, and could have resulted in serious injury to any one of us. I will also try to keep my emotions in check from now on."

Philippa gave her a curt nod and placed her hands on her hips. "So, now that we have that unpleasantness out of the way, I suppose we better discuss our path forward. Let's get the witcher in here-"

On a strange coincidence, the door sounded again, a harder knock this time.

"Hm. Right on cue," Philippa mused.

Yennefer opened the door to let in Geralt and Ciri, who looked slightly vexed upon seeing Philippa.

"Geralt, Cirilla," Philippa said smoothly as she acknowledged the both of them. "Shame we have to meet under such circumstances. I hear Toussaint is lovely this time of year."

"A lot lovelier than here," Ciri sighed as she folded her arms. "I assume you're here to help with said circumstances?"

"In anyway I can," Philippa replied. "Which should be useful I like to think. Geralt, I don't need to tell you you're the only one in this room who could get close to Radovid without facing instant persecution, yes?"

"To an extent," Geralt said slowly. "Radovid wasn't too happy with me the last time I saw him, when he hired me to find you."

"I do hope you weren't planning on turning me in had you succeeded?"

"I wasn't."

"Good," Philippa said drily. "I bet that only served to further foul Radovid's mood. That being said, we _could_ use this to our advantage. He is getting desperate, and when one gets desperate enough, they become careless in their actions. Before I go any further, I should ask what course of action you'll be taking? Triss tells me you plan on finding Dijkstra, as though you believe that man could possible assist in anything that doesn't include dessert?"

"That's right," Geralt said gruff, his face drawing into a scowl. "Before I left for Skellige, he and Roche asked for my help along with Thaler, though nothing ever came of it."

"And this surprises you?" Philippa quipped. "Dijkstra will be of no use in regards to something like this. You know very well the man sure knows how to talk, but relies on others to act-"

"He has contacts," Geralt cut her off. "And Roche has men. Let me speak with him, perhaps something has come up since last time. We need to explore all of our options, it can't hurt to have a backup plan."

"Very well," Philippa conceded, another surprising feat for the woman. "I suggest you go to the bathhouse now; we can't afford to waste any time. The rest of us will remain here and await your word before we make any decisions."

Geralt simply nodded to the women and then he was gone out the door. An awkward silence fell upon them. Yennefer had a feeling Philippa was up to something, given how willingly she gave in to Geralt's insistence on involving Dijkstra.

"You know something," Ciri started slowly, and Yennefer couldn't help but be proud of her investigative skills. It wasn't a question.

Philippa pursed her lips. "It's not something so much that I know, but a likely outcome I'm aware of. I _do_ already know Dijkstra, and I know for certain he will have a hernia if he finds out us Sorceresses are planning on getting involved, _especially_ me. I have no doubts that Geralt is smart enough to leave our names out of it, but this also makes your dear Witcher vulnerable to falling for Sigismund's ridiculous ill-fitting plans. That's why we will have to take matters into our own hands, and involve ourselves for him."

"What do you mean by that?" Yennefer asked hesitantly. "We need Geralt."

"And we will use him," Philippa said. "I'm fairly certain our chances of success will increase with my plan of using the ring. I don't know what Sigismund is going to tell him, and frankly I don't care. We will allow Geralt to get the aid from one Vernon Roche, and then throw Sigismund's plan out the window, unless the man can deliver the twist of a century and actually come up with something half-competent."

"That's why you allowed him to go there so easily," Ciri said as it dawned on her.

"Exactly. It couldn't hurt to have a few extra swords around in case we need it; what matters is getting Radovid off of that ship, to a location of our choosing, somewhere the man cannot run and hide."

"How can you be sure Radovid will fall for this…this ring?" Triss said with a hint of doubt.

"Unfortunately, we can't be." Philippa said slowly, her brows furrowed. "I would like to think that Radovid is predictable, and at one time he was, but with his increasing madness comes increasing unpredictability. There is no plot we could conjure that wouldn't involve some risks, nothing is for certain."

"But we have to try," Yennefer whispered, filling in what Philippa didn't say.

"Exactly." She turned on her heel abruptly and headed for the door. "Do let me know when Geralt returns, in the meantime I suggest you start preparing herbs, potions, anything that may assist us in the coming events."

Ciri turned to Triss then, still seated in the armchair. She went to her, swooping down into a kneeling and she took the hand that was still warm with flesh. "This is for every sorceress and mage out there that suffered at the hands of that whoreson. He will pay for what he's done, I swear it Triss. I know you don't want to be here, I think I can speak on all our behalf when I say that _none_ of us want it to be like this, but we need to do this for the sake of every magical being still in fear for their lives."

Triss' smile was small, but it was not forced. Yennefer's heart warmed at the display, proud of her daughter for becoming the well rounded woman she saw before her. She was sensitive to the feelings of others, she always could tell when someone needed words of encouragement. But she was strong, too. Brave and selfless, she would have made a wonderful Empress if that was the path she chose to take. But in the end, as a mother she would support her in whatever endeavors she chose, be that a life on the Path or otherwise.

"Thank you, Ciri," Triss responded with gratitude. "I feel like it's my purpose to stand up to him, to ensure no more will suffer as I did, as my brothers and sisters have. And to have you by my side, Geralt, everyone here fighting for me, for _us_ , I could never express how grateful I am."

"You can thank me by buying me a pint in Toussaint," Ciri said with a wink as she straightened. "Well, I'm off to oil my blade and wait for Geralt's return. I'll have Dandelion send up some wine, calm the nerves a little. I doubt we will be getting anything of importance done so soon."

"That would be nice Ciri, thank you," Yennefer said softly as she smiled at her daughter, grateful for her presence. "Come and find us when Geralt returns."

"Of course," was her response, then she was gone.

When they were alone again, Yennefer approached her lover where she sat. Triss almost made to stand up, but Yennefer placed her hands on her shoulders, just firmly enough to keep her in place. Her hands began to work; kneading deep, caring motions into the muscles of her shoulders. Triss groaned in a mixture of relief and pleasure as her neck finally began to relax under her touch, and for a moment the room was silent save for the occasional mewl from her redhead.

"Shall I tell you about the first time I realized I missed you?" Yennefer whispered quietly, focusing on her hands. The silence she was met with told her Triss was listening, and her lover charged the fire before snuggling deeper into the chair as she awaited Yennefer's story.

"It was at Kaer Morhen," she began softly, her hands kneading deftly where neck met shoulder. "When the Wild Hunt attacked…I was atop the keep, holding the barrier to stop Imlerith from breaking through. I had focused all of my energy into holding that barrier, I hadn't felt such power since Sodden Hill. It took everything in me, drew so much of my strength that I scarcely noticed what was going on around me, even with all the chaos ensuing."

She snaked her fingers under the collar of her shirt, stretching her digits over the expanse of warm skin she found underneath. Triss breathed hard through her nose at the contact, and her hand came up to rest overtop Yennefer's, the motion comforting.

"Then something caught my attention. _You_ , caught my attention. I…I heard you calling for help. And I looked down to where you were, I saw the hounds circling you, the Red Riders…and I was overcome with an incredible urge to say to hell with the barrier, but I didn't. I didn't because I knew I was up there holding such a barrier for a reason greater than all of us. For Ciri. That was my purpose, and I couldn't abandon it. But then I saw Ciri come to your aid, and I realized…"

"'Realized what?" Triss whispered, as she tightened her grip around Yennefer's hand.

"That I wasn't ready to lose you. More than that, I was afraid to lose you. I don't think I would have ever forgiven myself that I didn't let go of that barrier to help you, if you had perished. The relief I felt when Ciri appeared was greater than the anger I felt for her disobeying us. I realized that I missed you, I missed your presence, and that the idea of losing you frightened me more than I thought it would at the time, because I was still hurt."

She leaned forward until her cheek was pressed against Triss', and she turned to press a soft kiss to her jaw. "I won't fail to act ever again. I promise you, as long as I'm breathing, I won't let him hurt you. I won't let anyone hurt you, ever again. I will protect you with my life, if that's what it takes."

Triss turned into her touch then, finding her lips with her own. Her kiss was full of life, her hand gripping Yennefer's collar tightly. "I want to go home, Yenna," she murmured into her skin, her voice sounding broken, surprising Yennefer. "We just found _this_ , and I'm more afraid of losing you than anything. I don't want to lose you, I _can't."_

'You won't," Yennefer promised, "You won't love, I won't leave your side. I promise we will go home soon, far away from this wretched place." She promised her again, reassuring the woman.

"Lay with me for awhile?" Triss begged suddenly, as she stood from the armchair. "Please, Yenna, hold me, just for a little bit?"

The tone in her lovers voice left no room for debate, no possibility to deny that Triss needed this. So Yennefer complied, even though she knew they had little time to do so.

As she lay in a bed that wasn't theirs, in a city that wasn't home, she held the red head as though it could very well be the last chance she had.

Yennefer was never religious by any means; after living a life that had been through such tragedy, witnessed so much death, it was hard to believe a higher power could possibly be out there, looking out for those who prayed and offered their lives to them.

But Yennefer did say a small prayer there. A prayer that she could keep her promise to Triss.

That she wouldn't lose her, leaving her alone in this dark and cruel world.


	23. Chapter 23

They lay entangled with one another in the light of the fire, on top of the silk sheets in silence. She could tell by Triss' stiffness, the rhythm of her breathing, that she had not fallen into slumber. It was unsurprising; they likely would not sleep until they returned home.

 _If_ they returned home.

Yennefer tried not to think like that. One could argue they've faced worse, they defeated the Wild Hunt both at Kaer Morhen and in Skellige, and surely they were a more powerful force to be reckoned with than Radovid. Besides, with Ciri alongside them, one would think it would be impossible for Radovid and his men to harm them.

But Ciri's powers were still unpredictable. There was no telling whether or not they could help or hinder their success, or worse.

She forced the thoughts from her mind; she made a promise to Triss that they would go home, that they would take that trip to Toussaint, and she planned on keeping it. Failure simply wasn't an option.

She knew not much time had passed, not as much as she would have liked anyway. She supposed she shouldn't complain, the sooner they got this done, the sooner they could move on with their lives. But she couldn't deny that laying with Triss safely in her arms was preferable to what was to come, she couldn't pretend as though she wanted Triss anywhere near Radovid.

She found herself anxious about Geralt's return from the bathhouse. She just wanted to know they had a solid plan, even if it was wishful thinking that anything could possibly be solid enough to abate her worries. Still, it would do better to have everyone together and formulate _something_.

Thankfully she didn't have to wait long, as multiple sets of footsteps began to sound just outside the door. Triss was already moving, having heard it too, and she stopped to press a kiss to Yennefer's hand that had been resting around her shoulder before standing fully to open the door. Yennefer stood with her to move to sit at the table by the window.

Geralt, Ciri, and Philippa entered. Ciri, bless her heart, brought some wine as promised. Though her head was to remain clear, it couldn't hurt to take the edge off, to take the tremble she didn't fail to miss out of Triss' hands.

"Right," Yennefer said once everyone was settled. "What did Dijkstra have to say?"

Geralt rubbed his chin, "he didn't say much-" Yennefer felt her stomach drop slightly, "-he wants me to meet him at a warehouse in the port district, along with Roche and Thaler. He didn't want to say too much at the bathhouse."

"We'll come with you," Philippa said simply.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Geralt interjected. "You saw how he reacted the last time he saw you, Philippa, and I don't think he'd jump at the sight of me bringing along four other people into such a sensitive meeting."

_"Excuse me."_

The abrupt voice spoken sharply in the tense room had everyone turning their heads towards the sound. There stood Triss, her arms crossed defiantly in front of her, her once soft blue of her eyes normally filled with warm benevolence were now hardened in cold indignation. Her jaw visibly clenched as her posture stiffened where she stood. The mere sight of her was enough for the room to fall silent, even Yennefer felt herself rendered speechless.

When she was sure she captured the attention of the room, her eyes flitting over everyone before landing on Geralt, she spoke. "I think some of you are forgetting that this is _all_ of our revenge. And that's exactly what this is; revenge. For how he crudely chopped off my hand, for how he had his guards beat me an inch from death. For how he irreparably changed my life forever, taking away my choices, among many other things that will haunt me everyday, every night, perhaps _forever."_

Her voice trembled though not with the fear or reluctance that Yennefer heard earlier; this was the result of poorly restrained rage, beginning to seep through the cracks of her resolve, and rightfully so.

"It's unfair of me to pretend that I am the only one wronged by this man; he took your eyesight, Phil. He butchered our fellow mages," her eyes went back to Geralt once more. "Every one of us has every right to have a say in what happens next. Some more than others."

She paused to let her words sink in, and sink in they did, as Geralt remained silent with his head slightly bowed, as though scolded. "We _will_ be accompanying you to that warehouse, Geralt. And if Dijkstra has a problem with that, he can take it up with me. That, or he can fuck off and we will do this ourselves, one way or another."

Yennefer glanced around, noting Philippa's quiet amusement and Ciri's not-so-quiet satisfaction, if her large grin was any indication. Yennefer felt the corners of her lips upturned into a prideful smile of her own, letting her violet eyes linger on her lover for a moment before turning to Geralt.

"Looks like it's settled then. Lead the way to the port."

"We'll have to take the sewers," Triss chimed in again, and Yennefer tried not to let her displeasure be known at the prospect of once again traveling through sewers. At least this time she wouldn't be alone to do the dirty work if need be. Sometimes, there were things far worse than ghouls lurking below the cobblestone. "It's far too dangerous for us to be walking through the streets, we'd be recognized in a heartbeat."

"All the more reason it might be best for you to stay-"

Yennefer shot him a searing glare, enough to burn holes right through him should she desire to. It left no room for argument, as was the desired effect, and he didn't bother to finish his sentence.

"This entire plot will be risky," Ciri said quickly in an effort to ease the tension. "If we can't make it through some sewers in hopes of getting to a not-so-faraway port, then we haven't a chance in hell in defeating Radovid anyway. So less talking more moving. I'll teleport the ladies and I to the entrance on the Southside-I know exactly where it is. We won't even have to be in the streets at all. From there we should be able to find the entrance near the ports-"

"I'll get us there," Triss said. "I know these sewers like the back of my still existing hand."

Geralt shrugged indifferently. "Fine," he conceded. "I'll make my way to the port now. Will you be alright in the sewers?"

"Come, Geralt," Yennefer said perhaps more condescending than she ought to. "Four Sorceresses would fair better than even the most brutish of Witchers."

He hummed deep in his throat, clearly having enough with the women already. "I'll find the port entrance and wait for you there. Be careful."

"I would watch your back if I were you too, Witcher," Philippa drawled with her hands on her hips. "Folk who differ from mere humans aren't looked upon too kindly here in Novigrad."

He nodded and made for the door, as Ciri conjured a portal in the room.

"After you, ladies."

* * *

As promised, Ciri was able to deliver them safely to the entrance of the sewers on the southside of Novigrad. And as expected, Philippa left them trailing in the muck as she flew on ahead in her owl form. "To reconnaissance the possible danger" was her excuse, though Yennefer hadn't quite forgotten the situation with the ghouls the last time they had went exploring the underground together. It was of no matter to her, though, as it meant less time spent with the woman anyway. She didn't give a second thought as to whether or not Philippa could find her own way to the port-she supposed she had the time to figure it out, in her decision to fly ahead.

So she, Ciri, and Triss had set off on their own. Triss took the lead, and true to her word she really did know where they were going. She hadn't used this exact passage before, she explained, but she knew the general direction of the ports, and she knew the sewers beneath the city all connected to one another. Ciri could only accurately teleport them to places she had physically seen with her own eyes before, thus they relied on Triss to get them the rest of the way.

Obviously, it took longer than it would have had they just been able to take the streets, but seeing as said roads were overrun with Radovid's men, they hadn't much of a choice. Even getting to the building where the actual meeting was to take place would prove to be a risk in itself, they could only hope it wasn't too far from the exit of the sewers. Even if it wasn't, merely crossing the street could get them killed.

The tunnels were winding, the ground unsure, as it sloped and curved through thick and thin mud, sometimes water nearly up to their ankles, sometimes less so. But on they trudged, until they saw light just up ahead at a bend. Triss halted and held up a hand behind her, signaling them to stop with a finger pressed to her lips.

They ceased movement and listened intently for the sounds echoing off the stony walls; it was the squawking of gulls, and bells being chimed. Faintly heard over those sounds was the movement of water swaying about.

Yennefer couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corners of her lips; but of course, she had all the faith in Triss, but it was still relieving to know they had arrived where they meant to.

"It's the ports," Triss said in a hushed voice. "Come."

Rounding the bend they saw Philippa waiting expectantly just before the grate alongside a surly Geralt.

"No trouble?" he asked in a low voice.

"None," Triss whispered anxiously as they neared the exit. "What did you see out there?"

The way Geralt's jaw set in a hard line had Yennefer on edge; she glanced to Triss, noting how she worried her lip and the slump that sagged her shoulders. Philippa too, looked hardened, and Ciri in her ever positivity looked determined like no other.

"Witch hunters," Geralt said slowly. "They're patrolling the street we need to cross; Radovid's guards stand along the port. We can get across, but we will have to be quick. The warehouse is just on the other side."

Ciri was the one to speak first. "Right. We can do this, no problem right? Hoods on, let's be quick."

Following her lead they donned their hoods, a pathetic disguise really, but it was all they had. Posters of Triss and Philippa littered the walls like gruesome graffiti, one look at her fiery red hair or Philippa's banded cloth would give them away in an instant. She linked her arm in Triss' as Geralt opened the grate of the sewers and began to usher them out.

"It will be alright," she murmured to her lover, who practically vibrated at her side. "Remember what I said."

Triss managed a nod and began to step forward.

The broke out into the late morning sun, the sounds that had once been echoes bouncing off of the sewers walls now filled her senses, but she paid no mind. With tunneled vision they went to their objective, stopping not to look at any passersby. She kept her gaze first on the street, then on the warehouse where Geralt led them.

 _Don't look_ , her mind called to Triss.

Triss said nothing but squeezed onto her arm a little tighter in response, her gaze fixed forward as the rest of them. Their feet moved quickly, though it felt as though the other side of the street stretched on infinitely, every movement out of the corner of her eye had her wondering if someone was about to call them out.

She hadn't realized she had been holding her breath the entire way across the street; to her, they _must_ have looked suspicious, a gaggle of hooded women trailing behind a Witcher, but of course they stood out like a sore thumb. She was just _waiting_ for the blade to fall, for the inevitable shout of a guard, for the entire street to spot them and know exactly who they were.

But it didn't happen.

And she couldn't help but be just a little surprised by that fact, but of course she took it as a win when they reached the door to the warehouse. Geralt knocked loudly on the wood, and she willed for it to open quickly. They were still exposed here, still in most line of sight, and she took a moment to glance around when her paranoia proved too great to resist.

She saw the usual happenings that would occur at a port; men slugging along their cargo and hoisting their sails, scrubbing the decks of ill kept ships and even some young children at play along the boardwalks. She could see the indisputable red uniforms in the distance, alongside the walkways, though none seemed to have noticed the strange women along the street.

She then moved her gaze up and down said street. It was crowded, though not overly so just yet. For a moment she breathed another sigh of relief, and allowed herself to relax a little in Triss' grip. With her other hand she ran it along Triss' forearm in a comforting motion, massaging her thumb into her muscles which held onto her so tightly.

Her relief was short-lived.

Witcher hunters, unmistakably so, spotted through the crowd of peasants just a couple hundred meters down the street, headed straight in their direction. Master of hiding emotions as she was, she said nothing, as she watched their pointed hats and dark brown armor draw nearer and _Gods_ , how she willed that door to open. She chanced a side glance at Triss, and to her relief the younger sorceress had not noticed as her gaze was fixed firmly on the door in front of them. When she glanced to Ciri, however, their eyes met, and Ciri's eyes had darkened as she too, noticed the fast approaching men. Her daughters hand clenched to her side, and she knew she was preparing to portal them out of there if need be.

" _Whose there?"_ came sharp voice from the other side of the wood.

She peeked from the confines of her hood; they hadn't seen them, not yet, for the sun had not yet moved to illuminate this side of the building. Oh but they surely would see, surely when they got close enough-

"Witcher Geralt," their white haired friend replied back loudly. Her heart began to thump in her chest as the door swung open.

A short, balding man, with an unkempt chin strap and a scowl on his face entered their view. "Oh no," he spat, "no others allowed!"

Geralt's hand flew forward in front of him, his gloved fingers dancing in an intricate sign. "You must have forgotten," he said softly. "My friends were invited too."

The ugly little man's eyes glazed over, his jaw hanging slack. "I…I must have forgotten," he slurred as he stepped aside to let them through. "Your friends were invited."

Yennefer all but shoved Triss through the door, the rest following in suit as she dared to take one last glance at the witch hunters literally just steps away, their eyes not yet trained on them-

-and she breathed a rather loud sigh of relief, one that didn't go unnoticed by the redhead, once the door had safely shut in it's hinges behind them. Triss turned and looked at her curiously, and Yennefer just gave her the most subtle shaking of her head, trying to will the paleness from her features.

Triss' mouth formed in a grim line but she didn't question it, instead turning her attention to the open concept warehouse they now stood in. A set of stairs lay just in front of them, leading to an upper level where voices came drifting down.

"Will you bloody tell us what this is about?" came the impatient voice of a man, one she thought she could vaguely recognize.

"Just as soon as Geralt arrives," came another, this one sounding more… _slimy_. As though his tongue were made of poison, and that voice she did recognize, as did Philippa it seemed, whose face was now set in a look of disgust as her nose crinkled slightly.

Together they went up the stairs to find a candlelit table, atop it lay half finished meals but completely finished goblets. She spotted Vernon Roche first, who stood looking as impatient as his voice had sounded, allowing her to put two and two together. He had his arms crossed over his Temerian colors, his face pulling into a look of confusion as he watched them all enter.

The other man, a scrawny balding fellow whose face she recognized not, seemed to mirror Roche's expression, his eyes squinting over a gold chained monocle that tightened in his eyelid.

And Sigismund Dijkstra, at the head of the table, just looked _furious_.

"No," he barked out, pushing himself from the table with both of his hands causing silverware to clatter about, forcing the balding man to steady his trembling goblet before it succumbed to the same fate. "Nope, I think the _fuck_ not."

Geralt raised a hand, "Hold on, Dijkstra-"

"The only thing I'll be holding onto Witcher, is the hilt of a blade if you bring that _bitch_ one step closer," he spat as he pointed a fat finger in Philippa's direction. "Just what in Melitele's sweet cunt are you thinking? I told you, and you _alone_ , to come to this meeting I've arranged, and you stroll in with not one, not two, but _four fucking wenches-"_

"Hear me out," Geralt warned in an equally dangerous voice as he squared up to the bellowing man. "We can trust them-"

"That bitch tried to have me killed!" He raged. "It'll be a cold day in Toussaint before I let her step another crooked foot in my presence! Get her out of my sight-!"

"Dijkstra," Triss cut in as she stepped forward. "If you won't hear Geralt, hear _me."_

He placed his hands on his hips as he narrowed his beady eyes at the redhead. "Triss Merigold, as I live and breathe. So the reports were true, you did the impossible and escaped Deireadh Prison."

"You knew she had been captured?" Geralt cut in.

"Of course I bloody did," Dijkstra snapped again, his venomous tone back with a vengeance. "Not much goes on without my knowing; this is Novigrad, and Triss was a wanted woman here in the North. By the way, Witcher, I'll let your lack of insight to tell me that you planned on bringing them here this _once_ , pending information. Now, Miss Merigold."

"I can't say I'm alive and _well_ ," Triss said, crossing her arms in front of her. "There are details I don't need to divulge, but you can imagine why I'm here. Why we're _all_ here."

"I can take a guess," he said astutely as he tipped his chin at her. "I imagine you didn't quite enjoy your stay at Diereadh. And _that_ eyeless wonder-" he said as he shot a glare in Philippa's direction. "-It doesn't take a soothsayer to see that you both want the same thing as we do," he gestured to the two men that had been waiting up the stairs as well. His eyes darkened suddenly, as his glare passed over Yennefer and Ciri. "What I don't understand, is why Geralt seems to think it wise to bring along Cirilla and his _whore-"_

Yennefer's eyes narrowed, the hazy red filter beginning to make an appearance once again. Geralt too, stepped forward, his yellow eyes a blazing amber. Triss, once again, tried to play the role as mediator as her hand shot to Yennefer's forearm.

"Dijkstra," Triss warned, her own jaw set. "They're here to _help_ us, and you're right, we all share the same goal-"

"Dijkstra has a point," Roche spoke then, drawing all sets of eyes in the tense room to him. "Geralt, what were you thinking bringing them here? Already too many people know _too much-"_

"We're on the same side-" Triss tried again, to no avail.

"If Radovid gets even one _whiff_ of magic, he will turn tail and up his guard even more than he already has." Roche tried to reason. He turned his sights on Geralt. You've brought _four_ magical beings here. How on earth do you expect them to be of any help?"

"Gentlemen," Philippa's indifferent drawl sounded through the group. She had surprisingly remained silent throughout the entire exchange, Yennefer had almost forgotten she was there at all. "We can be of more assistance than you may realize."

As expected, Dijkstra turned his attention on her once again, his protruding gut expanding ever further as he puffed up with anger once more. "You're more useful to me dead than alive, Eilhart. I have half a mind to turn you in myself just for the satisfaction!"

"Please!" Triss cried, annoyance now laced throughout her tone. She looked to Dijkstra with pleading eyes. "Please," she tried again, softer this time. "let us hear your plan, we can _help_ each other. If for no other reason than to help an old friend, as I once helped you."

He studied her a moment as he mulled over her words. "I feel for you, Merigold, I really do. But as I recall, I already helped you get you and your mages out of Novigrad, thus repaying your favor."

He stroked his doubled chin, his eyes flitting dangerously over everyone standing before him. It was hard to read what he was thinking, which was part of the reason Yennefer had chosen to remain silent. She did not know this man as well as some of the others in this room, and thanks to Philippa, it seemed he harbored some resentful feelings towards sorceresses, save for Triss perhaps.

He breathed hard through his nose, as he settled his large form back into his seat. "Fine. Not another word from any of you-" he grumbled as he pointed a finger over all the women, of course. " _Especially_ you," he spat at Philippa, who shrugged him off.

"I still don't know why we're all here," Roche spoke again, his voice too, laced with an impatient annoyance that only seemed to grow. "Radovid's on his ship, we'll not get to him there. I've told you."

"Stop it," Dijkstra snapped back. "I've an idea how to draw him onto dry land. As much as I hate to say it, you're my muse for this plan, Eilhart, even if I never intended on you _actually_ partaking. Geralt, do I recall correctly that Radovid hired you to find Philippa?"

" _Mhm_ ," Geralt agreed as he took a seat at the table, his cat like eyes glancing in Philippa's direction. "I told him I've only found her hideout. What's your point?"

Dijkstra nodded. "We could use Philippa," he shot the woman another glare, " _without_ her involvement. Radovid expects you to report to him, bring him information about her. All you need to do is mention her name, intimate he'll believe you're on her trail."

"Oh he'll swallow that," the bald man now spoke up, his voice high and scratchy. "Hook, line, sinker and a good bit o' the rod as well!"

"Let's say Radovid bites," Geralt replied. "Believes me, and none of that's a given, what then?"

"You'll tell him you've found Philippa's hideout, somewhere we can easily set a trap and ambush. Suggestions?"

It was clear Dijkstra did not mean the floor was open to suggestions from the women, not even giving them a second glance, and Yennefer was beginning to grow tired of the man and his poor attitude. She even found herself growing impatient, the controlling side of her beginning to best her in the end, but she held her tongue for Triss' sake. It would be them on the ground, exacting said plan whether Dijkstra liked it or not. Let the overgrown baby say what he wished; in the end, they would still reap the desired result.

"Bridge to Temple Isle," the bald man, Thaler, said again. "Built up both sides, lots of nooks, gates, easy to block off from the rest of the city."

"Good idea," Roche chimed in, the first positive out of his mouth since they arrived. "I'll divide my men, post half on one end, the other half on the other by the gate, and in the middle, Ves with a well oiled crossbow."

"You see Geralt? All we ask is that you invite Radovid out for a stroll, bring him into the bridge. We'll take care of the rest. No need to involve any of the _ladies_ at all. So what'll it be?"

Yennefer almost cut in then, but the squeeze from Triss' hand had her faltering.

 _Wait_ , Triss said in her mind, her face betraying nothing. _Let him say what he wants to say. We will say our piece._

"I'm in," Geralt said in a low voice. "But when it's done, we will need a place to wait out the uproar, the panic. Triss and Yen can conjure a portal out of there-"

"Why you insist on involving the sorceresses in beyond me," Dijkstra said as he grew annoyed again. "I already have a place in mind. Remember Madame Irina's theater? It's abandoned now, not a soul looks in there. Thaler and I can await you there-"

"-Await us?" Geralt said as his eyes narrowed. "Unwilling to risk your own necks?"

Thaler leaned over the table, "Not the point. Dijkstra and I have many cocksuckin' virtues, but fightin' ability's just not one of em'. About as fit for that as a bleedin' beauty pageant."

Yennefer couldn't help but wonder what these two men _were_ good for, if anything.

"Don't worry, Geralt," Roche said confidently. "My people are battle hardened, they'll manage. You just bring them the King."

"Do what I can. Where's his ship moored these days?"

"Just around the corner, in Novigrad port. And for your sake, I hope he's in a good mood when you look in on him."

She felt Triss stiffen beside her; Radovid was here, in Novigrad, a mere stones throw from where they had emerged from the sewers, from where they stood even _now_. It was enough to make Yennefer's skin crawl, coupled by an unpleasant buzz of rage that burned just under her skin.

The temptation to sink his ship proved difficult to ignore. And then there was her poor lover who began to tremble ever so slightly against her shoulder, and from the corner of her eye she saw Triss cast a look behind her, as though she expected the King to be right there.

The room was silent a moment as Geralt began to stand, before Philippa took a step forward from where she had been hanging back and observing the conversation.

"Well, well, Sigismund, as much as I would like to say that great minds think alike, I find myself quite disappointed with you yet again."

"The fuck are you talking for?" he growled, his great fists clenching on the table.

Philippa ignored the question and continued. "With that being said, I agree with the aspect of luring Radovid from his ship to a location of our choosing, I even agree with said location. However, when it comes to the matter of _how,_ do you honestly believe Radovid will fall for such a crude ruse?"

Dijkstra looked as though a vein may very well burst in his temple. "Enlighten us then, if you think yourself so wise, before I throw your sagging tits into the pontar. And don't dance around it, I haven't the patience for your useless theatrics!"

Finally, something Yennefer could agree on with the man.

To her (and likely everyone's) surprise, Philippa _did_ skip said theatrics as she pulled the ring from her pocket and placed it into Geralts palm.

"A ring?" Geralt said, puzzled as he examined it. "A Redanian eagle etched in the ruby."

Dijkstra's jaw went slack as he narrowed his eyes at the sorceress. "You-"

"It belonged to Vizimir, Radovid's father. Hand him that, and he may believe you've captured me. He might even choose to trust you."

Geralt looked at the ring and back to Dijkstra, who for a moment looked quietly impressed before realizing the eyes were now on him. He cleared his throat and set his face in a grimace once more.

"Look, I don't bloody care how you get him off of that ship. I don't care if you and your little band of Sorceresses want to risk your dainty necks in the process, as long as the end result remains the same. Get him to the fuckin' bridge, kill the bastard, and get out. But I swear on my prick, if your decision to involve them screws up the plan in any way, you'll be paying for it Witcher."

Geralt was not one to be threatened, his eyes narrowing dangerously. But Geralt also knew which battles were best left to be picked, and thankfully he let this one go. Yennefer was glad, she was sure Triss was too as she felt the woman sag into her slightly as Geralt stood.

"Tonight," he said to Roche. "Have your men ready at the bridge. We're doing it tonight."

 _Tonight_.

They all took it as their cue to leave, to prepare. Ciri hastily conjured a portal to take them back to the Chameleon, no need for them to risk their necks out in the streets again.

Not until tonight.


	24. Chapter 24

The trip back to their respective rooms was wordless, save for Geralt telling them when it would be time to go, which would be just as the sun was to set.

They all knew their roles and went about doing them, though everyone moved as though their feet were weighed down with cement. Geralt was bound to be brewing his witcher potions, Ciri oiling and sharpening her blade.

Yennefer closed the door to the Ruby Suite silently behind her and Triss, who had gone straight for the window as she did when they first arrived, peeking through the curtains to see if they had been followed, to see if anything looked out of place in the streets below. The only thing that felt out of place to Yennefer was that they were here at all, as she lowered herself to the bed, her hands feeling out the fabric of unfamiliar sheets.

"I can't believe he's here."

Triss' voice startled her out of her own head, and she twisted from where she sat to see Triss still gazing out of the window, as though she could will the buildings to move from her line of sight in order to zero in on Radovid's ship.

"He's…he's _so_ close, he was right there, as we were at the ports…"

Yennefer was unsure of where Triss was going with this; her voice was sounding very unlike her own. It was devoid of the earlier fear, though there was no anger behind her words either. It was flat, blank, as though it carried no emotion at all.

Yennefer found herself feeling at a loss.

Triss suddenly yanked the curtains closed, hard, her fist clenching the thick maroon fabric before whirling around. The sudden change in demeanor surprised Yennefer, who stood from the bed and took a cautious step towards her.

"Let's just go back," Triss said, her voice laced with contempt. "Let's get Ciri to portal us there, right now. I can rain fire upon his ship, and we can be done with this. Why can't we just do that? Why _couldn't_ we do that when we were there?"

Yennefer's brows furrowed at Triss' display of anger. "Because we can't be sure he won't survive, Triss," she tried to reason. "We can't even be sure he's there, right now, Geralt-"

"Of course he's there!" Triss spat, and suddenly Yennefer felt very much as though the anger was directed at her. "What do you mean he can't be sure he wouldn't survive? Do you doubt my abilities so much?"

She turned away from Yennefer, her arms crossed defiantly on her chest, and began to pace away from her. Yennefer reached for her, helplessly.

"Triss?" She tried tentatively, "Of course I don't doubt your abilities, I just thought-"

"I see how everyone looks at me!" She jerked her arm away in an aggressive motion when Yennefer made contact. Triss turned on her then, her cornflower eyes blazing and hardened. "I see how _you_ look at me. Like I'm some…some damsel that needs protecting! Like if one wrong word is said, that I'll just shatter into pieces! Like I'm _weak!"_

Yennefer felt a pang of annoyance herself; it's true, she wanted to protect Triss, wanted to protect her _desperately_ , but only because she loved her so completely, cherished her as the most important thing that could ever be a part of her life, how could Triss not see that?

She stopped, her eyes slipping shut as she placed her hands on her hips and breathed a hard sigh through her nose, trying to even her own temper.

Because…Triss was right.

She was being selfish, trying to place the woman in a box so she might never be in danger again. For speaking to her like she was still in that bed with a body half broken. For assuming the role of protector, when Triss had been taking care of herself long before when Yennefer did nothing for the woman except glare daggers at her, not even bothering to give her the time of day.

Triss had every right to be angry, even if she wasn't expressing it in the most mature of ways. She had to at least _try_ and put herself in the woman's shoes, her greatest fears were coming true; everyone _did_ look at her with pity, whispering behind her back in tentative, hushed voices, asking how the poor battered sorceress was doing, afraid to even bring up her injuries around her, tip toeing around her as though she were made of fine china.

And now, she was to face the man who she owed all of this to, and she was being made to feel like she couldn't handle it. Yennefer never intended for her to feel this way, but her intentions didn't matter.

She had to make this right.

"You're right, Triss." She spoke in a flat, even tone. One that sounded more 'Yennefer'.

She took another step to her, this time Triss did not back away, though her eyes still remained narrowed and almost distrustful. Yennefer took her hand with no hesitation, the gesture holding none of the timid undertones that it did before. She brought the Sorceresses' hand to her own cheek, pressing a light kiss to her palm, before letting it rest on her skin, and she swore she saw the redheads eyes soften just ever so slightly.

"It's unfair of me, to be so protective over you. It's my problems with control beginning to show once again, and for that, I truly am sorry."

Triss said nothing, but she didn't remove her hand, instead she waited for Yennefer to continue.

"I vowed to never let anyone hurt you again, and I still plan on keeping that promise. But I will promise myself something else, too. Something I should have before, to both myself and you. And that is to never allow my incessant, controlling nature affect your life as well. Because it is _your_ life, Triss. You've lived it long enough to know what you need better than I ever will. You're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, you're not still in that bed any longer. You don't need me, or _anyone_ , to take care of you. You needn't anyone tell you which direction to take, what would be best for you, and you most certainly don't need nor deserve our pity. For the record, I never did pity you, Triss, and I apologize that it came across that way."

This time, Triss _did_ soften, her anger dissipating into a look of guilt. Without warning she threw her arms around Yennefer, pulling her into a bone crushing embrace that nearly caught her breath in her chest.

"I'm sorry for losing my temper," Triss mumbled in her ear, her breath tickling her flesh. "Of course I need you…and I know you don't pity me, I know you just worry…"

She loosened the embrace just enough to press her forehead to Yennefer's. "I _do_ see how they look at me, though…" her voice sounded terribly broken, losing all the harshness it once held, and now Yennefer understood her outburst; to Triss, anger was better than being broken, it was better than being afraid. To Triss, anger was reserved for the strong.

Yennefer tightened her grip around the woman's slender frame. "It was you, who once told me, that there was nothing wrong with someone being sympathetic to ones suffering. No one pities you, Triss, I know I cannot assure you of that but it's the truth. No one, not for a second, has ever associated the word weak with the name Triss Merigold, especially not now."

She hadn't realized they were getting closer; Triss' body was nearly flush against her now as she had listened to Yennefer's words, and she watched as the woman's eyes went to her lips.

"Radovid thinks I'm weak," she mumbled absentmindedly, as though it mattered.

"Radovid doesn't know what he's up against," Yennefer whispered back, and before she could say another word Triss was taking her lip into her teeth.

Triss cupped her jaw and kissed her with fervor, Yennefer couldn't help but sigh into her parted lips. While one could argue that they should be using this time to prepare more for the upcoming battle ahead, Yennefer thought it was much better spent this way. Tomorrow was not promised, but this moment most certainly was.

So she opened her mouth a little wider, deepening the kiss, and Triss was happy with Yennefer's acceptance to the change of pace and atmosphere as she tugged on the older woman's shoulders with her free arm.

When Triss' thigh found it's place between Yennefer's legs her breath hitched and she tossed back her head, Triss seizing the opportunity to latch onto her neck and bit down at the soft flesh she found there, resulting in Yennefer's nails digging greedily into her back. She would let Triss have her way with her, as it was so clearly what she needed in this moment, and Yennefer didn't have the strength to pretend she didn't need it too.

To hell with sensibility.

* * *

She shifted her stance, the loose, crumbling tile below her feet sliding slightly as her weight adjusted. She vaguely wondered, with her ever dark humor, if she would slide right off of the roof and perish before the battle even began. It wasn't as though they were in the less fortunate part of the city; on the contrary, the bridge to Temple Isle was on the wealthier part of Novigrad, but the wintery conditions ensured a slick coating of snow and ice did not discriminate between the upper and lower class.

Yennefer was not worried, she was sure of her footing.

She glanced towards the setting sun, just as it disappeared along the horizon, basking Novigrad in a pinkish twilight around the edges as it softened into the black night above. Her gaze then trailed to the archway above the entrance to the bridge, where Vernon Roche and his men lay in waiting. She followed along the rooftops, where more of his men were stationed either in the dark crevices below or in the balconies above, unseen but surely there, along with Ciri somewhere mixed in.

She prayed her daughter remain safe throughout the ordeal.

To her right, Triss crouched on the next rooftop over. When their eyes met she gave the redhead a reassuring nod, to which Triss pressed her lips to her palm and placed her hand over her heart, a small signal of her love to her.

 _Be safe_ , her voice came whispering in her mind. _I love you._

Yennefer returned the gesture and breathed out a heavy sigh, and began to focus.

The plan was to go as this; Geralt was to bring Radovid to the entrance of the bridge, where Roche and half of his men were stationed. This way they could have Geralt's back, as he surely would be stripped of his weapons as Radovid ordered every time Geralt would see him. If all went well, he would be led down the bridge, where Yennefer would create a barrier to prevent him from escaping from either side. Then would be Triss' time to rain hellfire down upon them, whilst Ciri and the remainder of Roche's men took care of the soldiers that guarded the King. Should Radovid manage to make it far enough forward, Philippa would be waiting further down.

It wasn't a foolproof plan by any means; with the amount of guards to be indefinitely at Radovid's side, the bloodshed below would be plentiful, leaving many opportunity for any one of them to be injured, which was the main con to their plan. The pro, however, was the low chance of Radovid's escape, thus increasing their chances of actually killing the man.

The air around them took on an eerie silence, save for the icy wind that picked up as though on an ominous cue.

Her eyes narrowed to the archway as movement caught her attention. " _Fuck_ ," she cursed under her breath; she had been expecting a lot of guards, but Radovid damn near brought the population of a small village with him. Blood red cloaks surrounded Geralt, who stood out like a sore thumb with his gleaming armor and snow-white hair, and she kept her eyes to him, watching.

That is, until her eyes landed on the King himself.

Draped in expensive Redanian red robes, even from where she stood she could tell it was him just by the lack of armor and weaponry that his guards shared, along with his nearly skin shaved head adorned with a gaudy golden crown. She forced herself to suppress the anger that bubbled up hot in her chest, instead she focused on the patience she must maintain, wait for Geralt to lead him in their direction.

But _damnit_ , they weren't moving.

She saw Radovid, who was leading up front, suddenly hold up his arm in a halting motion, the gaggle of red-clad guards ceasing their movements with Geralt in the center. Radovid paced a few steps, before slinking his way back to Geralt, seemingly exchanging words with the witcher.

The unmistakeable glint of a blade shone in the distance, as one of the burly guards drew his sword, held it to Geralt's throat-

"What the _fuck?!"_ Yennefer cried, her head whipping to Triss whose eyes held the same alarmed confusion as her own.

Radovid was moving ahead now with his cloak of protective guard, without Geralt, who stood at the end of a blade with no defense of his own.

Until the battle cry of Roche's men pierced the air.

Then chaos ensued.

An arrow from up top the archway went through the guards back, the arrow piercing clean through to the otherside to protrude crudely from his chest. The man crumpled, and Geralt seized the opportunity to grab his sword as he began to cut down the guards around him. There-in his blue Temerian attire, was Roche and a handful of his men now assisting Geralt in the slaughter of the remaining guards.

She said a silent thanks to the Temerian leader and focused her attention back to Radovid. It was not her place to worry about Geralt now, no, he would handle himself in true Geralt fashion with Roche at his side. Her priority was to keep the man currently invisible in a sea of fast-moving red from making it to the other side of that bridge.

She dug her heels into the tile of the roof, her hands coming to either side of her with her palms facing to the left and right respectively. Deeply buried in her skin, coursing through her veins along with her lifeblood, she felt the familiar and welcoming hum of magic beginning to well up inside of her, shrouding her very being in a glowing ethereal light.

She could feel Triss' gaze on her; Yennefer paid her no mind, as she couldn't while preoccupied with her current objective, and surely Triss was only watching to wait for her barriers so she could begin her own incantations, but a small, quiet part of her hoped she was watching in awe, too.

Chaos crackled through the gaps in her fingers, weaving around the elegant digits in electrified tendrils, and the barrier began to form on both ends of the bridge in the form of grand walls made of dangerous lightning. Higher it climbed, until there was no hope for man no horse to possibly reach the other side, not even if he miraculously scaled the building.

"Now!" she had called to Triss, though it was probably utterly hopeless over the noise. But Triss was ready for her, she had been watching, all these weeks she had been _practicing_ , and Yennefer chanced a quick glance her way-

Her breath caught in her throat.

 _Amazing_.

Triss lit up the sky with more gusto than she did even at the battle of Kaer Morhen, when she nearly scorched a sizeable chunk of the forest away. Her hands shot to the sky, reddened chaos weaving through her hands and down her forearms as she conjured magnificent fireballs high in the air, before sending them plummeting to the earth.

Her aim rang true as it sent the red cloaked guards scattering, many of them getting burned up in the flame if their blood curdling screams were any indication, the ground littered with burning heaps that could only be the bodies of the witch hunters and guards that once cloaked Radovid.

It was hard to tell if he too, had succumbed to her flame through the smoke and flashes of light that clouded the street below.

" _SORCERESSES!"_

_"PROTECT THE KING! PROTECT THE KING!"_

" _FUCK!"_ Triss cursed loudly, desperately trying to squint through the rising ash to try and spot where Radovid might be. Yennefer had eyes there too, hoping with all of her being that Ciri or Geralt was on his tail, she just had to hold the barriers so he would have nowhere to go-

-but a peculiar sensation took over, then.

Peculiar, only for but a moment, followed by an unexplained pressure as something jerked her back a step.

She hadn't even realized the barriers had dissipated, the ethereal light just _gone._

Until the pain set in.

Her eyes widened as she registered the arrows that flew thick from the smoke like a hailstorm, the thin projectiles cutting through the frozen air. It was funny, how her first thought was Triss, how the first thing that crossed her mind was the fact that _Triss_ needed to get down, as though the arrow that protruded from her own ribcage was merely a minor inconvenience.

Until it wasn't. Until the pain finally registered in a full blown, white hot electricity that felt very unlike her magic, enough to steal her breath away as fast as it came. The madness didn't slow around her, the screams still floating upwards from the bloodstained street below her, but the sounds of blades and death seemed so very far away now.

She was met with a different kind of pressure, vaguely aware that it was the feeling of her back slamming into cold tile as she collapsed from where she stood.

Her hand flew to the arrow lodged deep in her ribs as she grit her teeth. She wasn't a fool, there was no way she could pull it out. She tried to take a tentatively breath inwards, when her worst fears were confirmed.

The arrow had broken through her ribs and managed to puncture her lung, which was now rapidly filling with blood. She could taste it immediately, the familiar taste of copper almost enough to make her gag. No, not the taste, she really _was_ gagging, choking on the red liquid as it began to come up her throat.

She was going to die here.

" _YENNA!"_

The pounding of footsteps, she could even feel the vibration. She was surprised she could feel anything other than the blinding pain coupled with the panic in her chest-

_Triss._

"Yennefer," her voice sounded closer than the blades, than the screams. More pressure, a hand on her body-

"Yennefer," her voice said again, but her eyes were still shut tight, her jaw still locked, Gods at this point she was just trying to breathe as little as possible, not like it was difficult. Breathing _was_ impossible, the blood that flowed stubbornly in her throat, she was drowning in it, it would not allow air to pass-

"I'm going to make the wound bigger, Yenna."

Triss' voice was shockingly calm. Calmer than Yennefer felt, calmer than the chaos below. It was sweet, it was _heavenly_.

It was the healer in her lover, she knew she had to be calm.

Just when she thought the pain couldn't get any worse, it exploded in her side, and she was surprised by the pained half-scream that tore thickly through her own throat, the blood pouring out with it and running warm down her chin.

She grit her teeth again, silencing herself. She had gone through her transformation awake, all those years ago in Aretuza. In comparison, this was rather mild if she were being honest with herself, but the panic made it all the more worse. This time, she felt death creeping upon her.

The pain continued to throb and suddenly the pressure was back and devastatingly so, she felt as though her ribs were being pulled forward, as though they were being torn right out of her body.

She heard Triss grunt with effort above her, and suddenly the pressure was gone, dissipated, as though it was never there. Then, something warm pressed into the pain site, _Gods_ it was like a soothing balm spreading over her shattered rib, and she arched into the touch automatically, desperately seeking more of the relieving feeling.

She opened her eyes.

She didn't see Triss for long, who was hovered over her, her face twisted in unwavering concentration. Beads of sweat had gathered on her forehead, her hair messy and so _beautiful_ , and all Yennefer wanted to do in this moment was reach for her-

But all chance to do so was swept away as Triss began to turn her over, until she was in a recovery position, uncomfortably drawn up partially on her elbows and knees. She realized the warm feeling in her side had been the palm of Triss' hand, covering the open wound where the arrow once was, pouring healing magic into her with all the might she could muster.

"Cough for me, love," Triss said hurriedly, but her tone was still even, calm as it was before. "That's it."

She didn't have to ask Yennefer twice, for as soon as she had rolled her over she was taken by a violent fit of coughing, blooding shooting from her mouth, making her collapsed lung ache as though fire tore through it, but when a sizeable puddle had formed beneath her she was relieved that she could breathe once more.

Triss still held fast onto her side, her magic still healing her, more rapidly then Yennefer's magic ever could, and she gulped the air greedily, each breath getting easier with every second passed, until she finally forced the words to form.

"H-he's getting a-away," she gasped, her voice thick and hoarse, only now noticing that the sounds of battle below had ceased.

" _Shhh_ ," Triss soothed, her voice like a beacon of everything good. "He'll run right into Philippa. Ciri and Geralt are there, too. It doesn't matter…"

Triss held onto her firmly as she continued to heal her. Miraculously, her breathing returned to near normal, the whole in her lung now closed over and sealed, allowing it to fill with air just as it should. Her rib was still broken, healing bone would take some more time, time they did not have.

She took a few more experimental gasps of air, willing her heartrate to slow, before pushing herself from the roof.

"Yenna-"

"Let's go," she croaked out, "I'll be fine just-help me."

Triss assisted her into a standing, chancing a glance down to the road where all had gone silent. Satisfied that they would not once again be bombarded by arrows, she slipped an arm around Yennefer's middle and helped her back down into the attic and through the house.

Once out in the street, the first thing the sorceresses noticed was how eerily quiet their surroundings were, save for the crackling of still burning fires and the occasional moan from a downed guard. Yennefer's eyes went to the other end up the bridge, and when she strained her ears she could hear the faint sounds of heated voices. With Ciri and Geralt nowhere to be found, she could only assume, and hope, that they had caught up to Radovid ahead and were still in one piece.

She shrugged out of Triss' arm. "Come on-"

"Yenna-" came Triss' voice etched in concern, but was quickly cut off by Yennefer pressing a kiss to her lips. She cringed slightly when she remembered she had blood all over her face, but Triss didn't seem to mind as she softly reciprocated.

"Later," Yennefer rushed. "I'm fine, let's go get him."

She left no room for argument as she grasped Triss' wrist and tugged her forward until they were half running up the road, where they saw shadows dancing on the sides of buildings in the fires light. Rounding the bend they saw Geralt and Ciri, along with Roche and Ves and the remainder of his men.

"Yennefer!" Ciri cried, her face paling when she noted the blood that had stained down her neck and down her chest. Her daughter ran to her, Geralt's face too looked as fearful as Witcher emotions would allow, and Yennefer was cursing herself for allowing her guard to drop enough to not see the incoming projectile.

"I'm fine," she said for what felt like the thousandth time, her hands flying up to catch Ciri's wrists before she could start fussing over her. "I swear it. Where is he?"

The tone of Yennefer's voice told Ciri to push no further, and with a bob of her throat and a wary glance she stepped aside, pointing ahead to the drawn wall of the bridge. The voices around them hushed as she and Triss stepped through. She gave her lover's hand a gentle squeeze, and Triss' eyes went to her, the look in them almost pleading.

Yennefer gave her the subtlest of nods. "I'm right behind you, love. Always."

Triss gave her a small nod, her expression changing to that of steeled resolve, before she marched forward with everyone slowly trailing behind her.

Philippa had the man in a vice grip of magic; chaos crackled over his stiffened limbs, his face contorted in a pained expression, though Yennefer thought it wasn't nearly pained enough. Anger rose up hot in her aching chest, and she had to forcefully calm the chaos within her own body.

This was for Triss. For Philippa even, if anything.

Philippa looked them over dismissively at the sound of their approaching footsteps. "Ah. Yennefer, Triss, how nice of you to finally join us. I was just keeping our dear friend here company until you arrived, I assumed you wouldn't want to miss the pleasantries?"

Yennefer hung back alongside Geralt and Ciri, as Triss moved forward in cautious steps, her eyes narrowed into angry slits. "I wouldn't miss it," she said in a harsh whisper, so very unlike her own that it even made Yennefer uncomfortable.

Philippa, on the other hand, looked utterly delighted as she released Radovid from the hold of her magic, sending him gasping and sputtering in on himself.

"Y-You foolish _wenches!"_ he cried angrily, his voice raw and strained and with a distinct hint of fear poorly masked by anger. "You're stupid if you think it will end with me! Another will take my place, humans _will_ eradicate the unnatural plague from this earth-!"

"I'll take my chances," Triss said before sending his body alight with binding chaos again, causing him to choke on the words that quickly died in his throat, replaced by a dreadful gagging sound as his eyes bulged in agony.

She released him.

And to the shock of everyone around him, he began to _laugh_ , almost manically so.

Yennefer chewed the inside of her cheek as she watched Triss' step falter slightly, the words she so passionately spoke earlier still resounding in her head, so she forced herself to remind silent and let her handle it.

 _Gods_ , her ribs ached, the subtle, metallic taste still prevalent in the back of her throat-

"Triss Merigold," Radovid spat, his lips curled in a venomous sneer. "I can be man enough to admit you look much better than when I last saw you-"

Triss balled her fist, as flames began to crackle and dance in her gauntlet-

"Is that your new hand?" he gestured to it. "Pity it still doesn't compare to the real thing, does it? I have your flesh mounted on a spike in my cabin-"

Her feet pulled her forward now, and in the flickering light Yennefer could see how she trembled just _slightly_.

"How does it feel, Merigold? To be the most grotesque Sorceress to ever hail from Aretuza? Don't think I didn't see your mangled tits while my men had their way with you-"

Triss faltered again, Yennefer could see the rise in her shoulders from breathing hard, and as the ache in her own chest began to seize her tighter she realized that she too, was rather breathless with rage, as she listened to every foul word that came out of his sneering lips.

Radovid laughed again, a horrible sound that stabbed at her gut like a dagger and she felt her fists curl at her own side, showing a restraint that even surprised herself, for she had never known such an urge to end another's life quite like she did now, in this moment, looking at this man.

"Oh yes, how they had their fun with you. I personally would never touch the likes of you with my prick, not with your melted tits and your bleeding stump of an arm, I can only imagine what shape your cunt must be in now too. Don't you get it, Merigold? I've _won!_ I'll live inside you until the day you die, alone, as a broken, barren, _useless whore-!"_

She could see the break when it happened; the way the red heads spine went rigid, how instant the trembling ceased. A chill suddenly ran through Yennefer, tingling it's way up her spine and with a start she recognized the feeling as icy cold dread, but Triss had already lunged.

The flame went out in her gauntlet, forgotten as an anguished and desperate cry had torn from her throat and she moved with a speed Yennefer had not seen before; everything happened so fast, Triss' knees were now pressed into the joints of his elbows on the ground, effectively holding him down as she pressed the white-hot metal of her prosthetic to his face.

She let out another guttural sound, like that of a wild animal, while Radovid let out the most blood curdling shriek that drowned out whatever sounds came from the redhead, the shocked gasps and whispers from Roche's men.

Harder she pressed, over the King's screams of agony a faint hissing of burning flesh could be heard in the background, and Triss was leaning all of her weight into the motion as she leaned forward, nearly nose to nose with the writhing man. She dug the claws of the gauntlet into his eyes, pressed the heel of her palm into his mouth, and slowly his screams began to turn into a sick gurgle as the pain began to take his consciousness.

The smell was horrible; they were no strangers to it, Yennefer had witnessed many a man burned and Triss herself had smelled her own flesh be melted from her frame not once, but twice.

Yennefer hadn't even realized she was now holding her breath-this wasn't Triss. This was the same woman who had the unrelenting grip on her throat that night she had nearly forgotten about. She sent a worried glance to Ciri, whose gaze was transfixed on the scene before her with a glove clasped to her mouth, whether in horror or to block the stench or both she wasn't sure.

So she turned to Geralt, whose mouth was set in a hard line. He too, knew this wasn't Triss. And that Triss, underneath all of the pain she felt, the anger that consumed her, that she did not want to do this either. She did not want to torture a man, no matter how he brutalized her, no matter how irrevocably changed her life may be.

She didn't even bother shooting a glance Philippa's way; she had no desire to bare witness to the delight surely found there.

As such, Yennefer found herself indisputably torn between pulling Triss off the man and allowing her to continue. But she soon found she wouldn't have to choose, anyway.

Radovid now lay motionless, save for the occasional jerk in his legs, and Triss had began to tremble once again. It rippled through her violently, and she tore back the gauntlet from his face as though it were she that had been burned, staring numbly at the gauntlet now caked with the melted flesh of her enemy.

Her shoulders heaved as she began hyperventilating, and she reached blindly behind her-

"Y-Yenna-" she gasped, her voice choked and small but oh so much like hers again.

But Yennefer was right there. Just as she promised.

She hadn't even noticed she had moved to Triss, as though she could sense that she needed her. She just knew.

Her hands gently went under Triss' arms, picking her trembling form up off of the man, pulling her tightly to her, shielding her from the world around them. Triss grasped onto her side while Yennefer's arm wrapped firmly around her waist, her other hand cupping her cheek and holding her close to her chest as they moved away, supporting the woman who walked on shaky legs as she escorted her from the scene. She looked at Philippa, giving her a subtle nod. Philippa returned it in kind, her expression that of an eager satisfaction, her hands moving to her waistband to reveal the glint of dagger as she turned on Radovid.

The sound of said blade driving into flesh and bone was the last thing they heard, and the small group parted to let them through as she guided her lover away from the nightmare.

The nightmare that she this time lived.


	25. Chapter 25

The air around them grew colder as she led Triss away from the fire, from the steaming blood that pooled in the slick streets and into the first dark crevice she found in the shape of a small alcove a little ways down the road.

Triss' breathing was erratic and forced, coming out in short gasping heaves and it was Yennefer's intention to find somewhere to sit her down but all too quickly Triss was pushing herself from her, doubling over onto a knee with her hand braced against the wall of the alcove as she became violently ill.

"D-don't look at me," she managed to choke out in between bouts of vomiting. As much as every part of Yennefer screamed otherwise, she respected the woman's request, and instead she went to pick up the gauntlet that Triss had managed to tear off of herself and cast to the side as she was sick.

She turned it over in her hands, her nose crinkling slightly in disgust when she was the way the flesh had melted to the metal. She made a mental note to clean it for Triss once they were home, it was clear why Triss would not wish to wear it in such condition.

The sounds of her retching had ceased, and Yennefer found her curled against the wall, her breath still cutting sharply in the air. She moved to kneel behind her, one arm holding her closely by the shoulders while the other moved to her chest, rubbing soothing circles as she tried to slow the hammering of Triss' heart.

"I d-don't know why I did that," Triss cried softly, refusing to meet Yennefer's gaze. "I-I'm sorry…"

Yennefer assumed she was speaking of the condition of the gauntlet, but she couldn't be sure, so she remained silent for the moment as she waited for the redhead to continue.

"I _wanted_ t-to," she said as she squeezed her eyes shut, the tears that had been gathering there now tracking down her reddened cheeks. "I just _couldn't_. I c-couldn't do it-f- _fuck-!"_

She began to sob then, the sound shattering Yennefer's heart behind her broken ribs, and she wondered if this had all been worth it. She rested her head atop her lovers, a woman too pure for this world, and desperately wished she could take it all back.

She didn't deserve this.

"I tried _so_ h-hard to be s-strong," she hiccupped. "B-but I was wrong. I am w-weak…"

Yennefer took her chin gently, she could feel how Triss tried to pull her away, to crawl into herself and hide her shame, but that was something the old Triss would do, and it was something only the old Yennefer would allow. So she pressed both hands softly to her tear-stained cheeks, her thumbs hooking gently under her jaw, and forced her gaze to her.

"You _are_ wrong Triss. You're wrong in this moment, right now. It takes an unmatched amount of strength to walk away, as you did. It takes far less to simply obliterate your problems before your eyes, _trust_ me. It takes unmatched courage to accept such a terrible reality given to you, and still remain with an open heart and mind, as you always have. You think Philippa would have stopped to save me, to throw away her chance at revenge to give me a chance at life? Do you think I would've done the same for myself? Only someone with the strength to see the big picture, instead of living their life through a carefully created filter born of loathing, could do such a thing. _You_ did that, Triss. Just because you didn't wield the blade, doesn't mean you're not the hero. You've done things that people like Philippa and I could only dream of doing, like walking away. Like choosing _life."_

She barely registered her own tears falling now, forcing herself to speak past the hardened rock of emotion in her throat.

"He knew he was going to die. He wanted to bait you with his words. He wanted you to give him the last bit of what made you _you_ , to _him._ He wanted you to prove to him that all sorceresses were indeed the vile creatures he saw us as. But he underestimated you, your heart, and how you couldn't be further from his vision of you."

"But I _did_ give in," she cried softly, pressing her forehead to Yennefer's and gazing at her with pleading eyes. "I _tortured_ a man…oh Yenna, am I a m-monster?"

Yennefer shook her head, her thumbs sweeping her cheeks to catch the tears that still fell. "The only monster here is dead on that road. You will never be what he wants you to be. I _love_ you, Triss. I love everything that you are, the most beautiful of souls, whose strength is unmatched by all."

Triss shuddered into her, her head coming to rest on her shoulder while protected by strong, unwavering arms that cloaked her from the cold. "I want to go home, Yenna…I want t-to…"

As though on cue, Geralt and Ciri came rushing over from down the road. Geralt cleared his throat, breaking up the moment and causing the two women to turn in his direction, where he stood awkwardly as aware he was of interrupting something.

"I'm sorry, but we need to get out of here, now. Philippa and Roche have already gone. It's done."

Yennefer nodded, setting her once tearful expression back into that of determination. She assisted Triss to her feet, who surprisingly recovered quickly in the face of others. It was only Yennefer, who she felt comfortable expressing herself so wholly.

Ciri twisted her hands in the air, conjuring a portal just in front of them. " _Hurry!"_ she rushed, glancing over her shoulder.

Together, they ran for the portal, just as the creaking sounds of the bridge's gate drawing down met their ears.

* * *

It was now the dead of night when they arrived in Vengerberg, reappearing on the rooftop garden of her loft. She breathed deep, no matter how much it pained her still tender lung as it expanded against broken bone, it didn't matter. The crisp, clean scent of home soothed her if nothing else.

"Fuck," she muttered to herself, running a gloved hand through her wild hair. She turned to Geralt, "you don't think there were any survivors? Any witnesses?"

He shook his head in the negative. "No. Roche's men made sure of it."

She breathed a sigh of relief, fatigue beginning to creep into her bones as the surging adrenaline in her veins began to ebb away, leaving exhaustion in it's wake. "Come," she said to them all. "We've earned our rest, I'd say. Leave the celebrations for tomorrow, I've had quite enough excitement for one evening."

"Yen," Ciri said, stopping her mid stride as her intention was to head quickly into the loft. "Look, Geralt and I are going to go to the inn-"

"-What?" she asked, puzzled. "Don't be ridiculous, there's plenty of room-"

"-No, I know that. But you too should probably, y'know…spend some time alone, after everything. We can come find you tomorrow for those celebrations you promised." She added a wink at the end, a warm smile adorning her features.

Yennefer felt some of the tension ease from her shoulders. But of course, she wanted the loft to themselves after such a traumatic series of events, though she never would say so to her guest. She shot a grateful smile to her daughter, to Geralt. "Thank you, _both_ of you-"

"-You have no idea how much your friendship means to me," Triss interjected, coming to link her arms in Yennefer's. "To us both. We wouldn't have stood a chance if we didn't come together the way we did."

"Of course, Triss," Geralt said in a low voice as he dipped his head. "We'll always be there, whenever you need us."

Triss nodded and together they made their way back into the loft, muttering quiet goodbyes as the blonde pair exited to head to the inn across the street. When the door had finally shut it in it's frame, Yennefer breathed a long, albeit painful sigh as she flicked her wrist to the fire. The loft was rather chilly after being left empty for the past day and night. She moved to place the gauntlet by the sink, deciding she would clean it in the morning.

Then Triss was tugging her towards the hall, in the direction of their bedroom. "Come," she spoke softly, though something in her tone had Yennefer immediately following. Once in their chambers, Triss lit the fire in the hearth there, before guiding Yennefer to sit on the armchair just in front of it. She was thankful, as she hadn't realized just how cold and tired she really was until the orange flame began to warm her skin.

With one hand, now much more skilled with practice, she deftly untied the lace that held together her cloak, sweeping it from her shoulders and placing it on the back of the chair. She moved silently, purposefully, and Yennefer tried to gauge her emotions on her face but found her expression unreadable. She seemed so concentrated on the task before her, as her fingers then moved to the remainder of her clasps that adorned her gambeson, so Yennefer remained in silence as she watched her work.

She slipped off the gambeson, then the not-white-anymore shirt underneath. She felt a pang of irritability as she stared at her ruined clothing, now torn to shreds from the arrow and stained with the blood that poured from her wounds and lips. A small price to pay, she supposed, and she knew she was being vain, but she'd be lying if she said she didn't have a soft spot for her attire.

Clad in nothing but her black lace bra, Triss used her arm to gently push Yennefer's shoulder back, so she was now sitting flush with the chair. She placed her hand softly, the most feather-light touches over her aching ribs, the touch so tender as to not cause further pain to the bruised skin and the shattered bone that lay underneath.

She saw the faint, gold light radiating under her palm, and she moaned softly as her healing magic began to flow deep, but not from the magic itself, more from the delicious warmth that radiated from her gentle hand.

She knew Triss was exhausted, Hells, _she_ herself was exhausted, she couldn't imagine how the other woman felt in this moment. She almost wanted to tell her to stop, no matter how addictive the feeling may be, because her injury was no longer life threatening anyway.

"Triss-?" she tried softly, but she was abruptly cut off by the feeling of sweet, warm lips pressed against her own.

" _Hush_ ," she soothed, her voice a light breath ghosting over her lips. "Let me take care of you."

_Let me take care of you._

Her throat bobbed and the words of protest died in her throat, quite literally kissed right off of her lips. Triss wanted, _needed_ to care for her, and she understood the feeling. Because she too felt the same overwhelming urge, the instinct, to do so for the redhead not so long ago.

So she relented, allowing herself to enjoy the soothing touch that she craved, arching into her palm just slightly as she relinquished her control to the woman. Her head tipped back to rest on the chair, her eyes slipping shut as wave after wave of bliss radiated from that palm, and Yennefer almost forgot her ribs were broken at all it was so delightful.

"Thank you," she breathed into the silence. She opened her eyes to find Triss looking curiously at her. "You saved my life," she clarified in a low voice.

Triss breathed hard through her nose, her eyes turning into saddened blue hues. "You saved mine," she whispered, biting her lip. "I told you I couldn't lose you, Yenna. When I saw-" she swallowed hard, as though the words pained her. "-When I saw you fall, everything else seemed so insignificant. It _was_ insignificant."

Triss broke their gaze as her eyes went back to her hand, still pouring her magic into her wounded side. "I honestly wished we had never bothered. It wasn't worth it to nearly lose you, to cause you _any_ amount of pain or injury, even if you're still here now. And I've thought about it-I've went through all of the emotions of what happened, and in the end I don't regret what I did to him. Not after what he did to you. I thought I would hate myself, I felt like a monster, I did. But in the end, when I think of that arrow embedded in your chest, nearly taking you from me, I know in my heart he deserved all that and more. My only regret is that I didn't finish him myself."

Yennefer reached to place a hand on her cheek, her thumb stroking the skin lovingly. "You're not a killer," she breathed, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I would never want that for you. Leave the murder to those like Philippa, who sleeps soundly with the things that she's done."

To her surprise, Triss lips quirked into their own small smile. "I guess the world needs people like Philippa, huh?"

Yennefer's thumb then traced her lips, her beautiful, full lips. "I suppose it does. But it needs people like you far more."

Triss smiled bashfully, her eyes flitting downwards before dragging back to meet Yennefer's. She leaned in close, nuzzling under Yennefer's chin and pressing soft kisses to where her pulse beat in the soft flesh of her neck. It caused a pleasant clench in her stomach, her heart fluttering under the gentle ministrations.

"I love you, Yenna, so much it almost _hurts._ It's all consuming, my love for you, my heart, my _life…_ "

Yennefer felt her own heart may give out under Triss' sweet words, the feeling of her breath ghosting over her skin. "I love you, I will love you always. It's over now, we're free, _you're_ free, to live our lives as we're meant to. Together."

Triss hummed softly, her expression relaxed, happy. With Radovid's death and their guaranteed survival, it was though a weight was visibly lifted from her shoulders, and she had a warm aura about her she had not yet seen. They had faced an unruly amount of stress in both of their long lives and maybe, just maybe, they wouldn't have to ever again from this moment on.

Triss retracted her hand, the golden tendrils fading, and Yennefer almost mewled embarrassingly from the loss. Not because her ribs weren't feeling better, because they were, thanks to Triss' proficiency in healing, but due to the absence of warmth her touch brought.

But when she waved her hand to conjure a steaming tub, Yennefer soon forgot all about it.

She eyed the water and the inviting warmth, as Triss began to unclasp the bra still covering Yennefer. When her chest was bared she moved onto the lace of her breeches. "Let's clean that blood off of you, darling."

Yennefer stood and removed the remainder of her clothing as Triss started on her own. Once nude, Yennefer couldn't help but eye her naked form, never growing tired of the sheer beauty she found there.

"You're staring," Triss jested, a smirk playing on her lips. "Wash first, then I'm all yours."

"What if I don't want to wait?" Yennefer said in a low voice, grabbing Triss' waist from behind and giving her earlobe a playful nip.

Triss batted her away, a chuckle bubbling up in her chest. " _Wash first,_ " she chided, "we reek of smoke and death, not exactly the most inviting of scents."

"Ah yes, I forgot, it's the lilac and gooseberries that does it for you."

"Always has, my love."

She let the redhead guide her to the tub, eager to feel her hands on her again. Yennefer was never the type to say so, but she rather enjoyed being taken care of, being coddled even, something about Triss fussing over her made a pleasant warmth spread through her chest. Obviously, she could care for herself and always has, but now she didn't have to.

She lowered herself into the water and _Gods,_ how wonderful it truly was, the temperature was perfect to chase away the cold that had settled in her bones. She dunked back her head, moaning as the water doused her scalp, letting her eyes slip shut for a moment before opening them when she felt Triss' presence in the tub.

Triss tsked as she dunked the washcloth, her bad arm gently pushing on Yennefer's jaw as she tipped her head back slightly again, just enough to expose her neck. "How much blood has this poor tub seen?" she wondered aloud.

"Far too much for my liking, and far more than I'd care to think about," she murmured in a tired voice as Triss rubbed gentle, sweeping circles across her chest and clavicle, rinsing the dried blood away. The cloth traveled up her throat, moving along her jaw and chin, before scrubbing the last bit away from her lips.

"There you are," Triss whispered happily, as she pressed a chaste kiss to Yennefer's lips. She smiled into it, pressing forward to take Triss' bottom lip in her teeth, eliciting a small gasp from the woman.

" _Yennefer_ ," she chided again. "Gods, woman, you're so much more affectionate than I ever would have thought you'd be."

Yennefer's cheeks heated up, her face falling slightly. "Do you not like it?"

Triss immediately surged forth and kissed the expression off of her face, peppering sweet kisses along her jaw and cheeks, her lips. "On the contrary, I _love_ it. But I'm trying to clean you and you make it so difficult when you continue to distract me. Turn around."

Yennefer wasn't sure why she seemed overwhelmed with impatience, a strange sense of want, of yearning to be close. It's true, she might have been unusually affectionate, but she could guess the reason for it all.

She loved Geralt, but she had never been _in_ love.

Never had needed someone so.

She forced herself not to pout as she complied, but when Triss' fingers began to marvellously lather soap into her hair, she found herself lost in the motions once again. She was pliable mush under Triss' hand, and she sank into the touch that nearly put her to sleep then and there.

All too soon the hand retreated, and she mourned the loss as before. After rinsing her hair she turned to find Triss now washing herself. Her hands came to meet the redheads, slowing the motion. Her still cracked ribs, though better, shifted uncomfortably but she paid no mind and let nothing show through her expression.

"Allow me," she husked, overjoyed when Triss rewarded her with a smirk and turned in the water to leave nothing but soaked red hair cascading over softly freckled shoulders revealing themselves to her.

Triss knew how much she loved her hair.

The woman was right in saying how easily distracted Yennefer was, and how easily she distracted the woman in turn. After getting lost for a time in lathering her silky tresses, she couldn't resist planting light kisses to those freckled shoulders, and when the soft mewl escaped her lovers lips it spurred her on to chase the skin of her neck, behind her ear.

She wrapped her arms around her, pulling their bodies flush together under the water, magnifying the heat that surrounded them and her chest ached with the realization that she never wanted to let this woman go, not on her life.

"I love you," she whispered into her skin, kissing her again when the words tumbled effortlessly from her lips, from her very heart. "I love you, Triss."

Triss sighed and tilted her head back, giving Yennefer further access to her throat where she trailed her tongue, creating a path to her defined jaw bone. "I'll never tire of hearing that."

"I hope not," Yennefer chuckled into her. "Not a day will pass where I don't make it known."

Triss' hand met the forearm that was wrapped around her chest, her nails running along the expanse of skin. She then lifted Yennefer's hand to her lips, pressing a light kiss to her palm before nuzzling it to her cheek.

"Let's get out and smoke," she suggested, as she turned around and met Yennefer's violet eyes. "You look exhausted, my love. And the bed is _so_ inviting."

She said the last part with a raise of her brow, suggesting that even though they were tremendously fatigued, it would never be to the point where they couldn't forgo their slumbers just a little while longer, just enough time to enjoy each other.

"I hear you," Yennefer said as she couldn't resist taking those lips again. "Come."

She let Triss assist her from bath and together they donned their robes. Yennefer retrieved the box from her closet while Triss climbed into the sheets, patting the bed in an invitation as Yennefer returned pipe in hand. She broke apart the strong smelling flower and packed it generously, holding it to her lovers lips as she always did, allowing her to go first.

After a round of passing it, Yennefer brought it to her lips and inhaled deeply, before lightly gripping Triss by the jaw and bringing her lips to meet her own, and slowly she exhaled the smoke that burned her lungs into Triss' waiting mouth.

She inhaled gently and pressed her lips to Yennefer when she was done, threading her tongue with her own, her lips shifting and caressing her at a slow, languid pace, until they were swollen and full.

She felt herself being pushed into the pillows, allowing herself to be, while Triss shifted her weight on top of her, her mouth never breaking contact with the redheads. She felt a hand cupping her jaw gently, elegant fingers stroking her skin as they began to wander down her body at an agonizingly slow pace, down her collarbone, her clavicle.

"By the Gods, woman, I'm not made of glass," she murmured in jest, as her hands squeezed at the redheads hips in want.

"Be quiet, you. I nearly lost you tonight, I'm going to take my time."

And take her time she did. Her elegant fingers trailed down her breastbone, all hopes of her at least stopping to tease at her breasts gone as her she continued to draw her hand downwards. Meanwhile, she was pressing the most feather-soft kisses to her neck, if it could even be called that. Her lips more or less just rested there, her breath caressing her skin.

Yennefer let her eyes slip shut and enjoy the motions, as impatient as her body began to feel. Her breath quickened when Triss' nails dug gently into the taught muscles in her stomach, her abdominals quivering under her touch as a small sigh escaped her. She could feel Triss smiling into her neck, enjoying every small, drawn out response she received from Yennefer, knowing very well the seed of desire she had planted had very quickly begun to take root.

Yennefer couldn't help but arch into her as those fingers teased just above her heated core, desperately seeking something more, something _tangible_.

"So impatient," Triss chastised, as she drew small patterns across the ridges of her hip bones. "Tell me, Yenna, what do you want?"

" _You,"_ she growled, trying to keep her voice measured through the increasing fog of arousal that began to cloud her senses. She could feel her wetness, and Gods how she wanted Triss to feel it too.

"You'll have to be more specific than that," Triss murmured, nipping lightly at her pulse. "You already have me."

Suddenly, her hand dipped lower, and she ran a teasing finger from the bottom of her slit to the top, slowly dragging it's way upwards.

"'Oh…" Yennefer cried softly, that finger was _maddening_ , not nearly enough despite the way her body vibrated so, her breathing coming quicker in sharp wanton gasps. "I want you inside me, _please."_

Triss nipped her earlobe in response, finally heeding Yennefer's rather obvious desires as she slipped two fingers into her slick folds, meeting no resistance as she plunged them inside of her. Yennefer let out a rather embarrassing noise of relief, which turned into a sharp cry of pleasure when her fingers curled delightfully inside of her, hitting that sweet spot that Triss always found with ease.

Yennefer's eyes had shot open at the new sensation, her vision met with a sea of red hair as Triss was still latched firmly onto her neck. As wonderful as it was, she wanted, _needed_ to see her, so she tangled her hands in the red locks she loved so dearly, pulling her back until their eyes met.

Triss' cornflower eyes were hooded and alight with desire, and the smile that adorned her features was perhaps the most beautiful sight to behold. Yennefer couldn't help but smile back, through her soft whimper as Triss pressed their foreheads together, every so often pressing light kisses to Yennefer's mouth causing her moans to be slightly muffled.

Her fingers continued to pump inside her at a methodical pace, slowly bringing Yennefer to the brink of orgasm until she would change it up, drawing out her climax to the point of nearly driving her crazy, but she knew Triss didn't want the moment to end as much as she didn't.

Yennefer's dripping center, the fire that tore through her gut, told her that she wanted more, wanted it _harder, faster_ , for Triss to take her over that edge already, but the teasing rhythm she had set was so strangely delightful she found the words dying in her throat whenever they came to mind.

Triss herself seemed perfectly content to enjoy the tremors that passed through Yennefer's body, and she was suddenly an acutely aware of Triss settling her own slick core into Yennefer's thigh as she began to grind into her with every pump of her hand. The sensation alone began to take her to that edge she so desperately craved, the feeling of Triss' arousal on her leg might as well have been lightning.

Once it had began Triss had finally started to pick up her pace, and a small smug voice in Yennefer's mind was amused at how quickly Triss moved when she was suddenly getting pleasured as well. She had no qualms though, and she stiffened her thigh in between the woman's legs, arching it upwards slightly so she may grind into her harder.

" _Yenna…Oh Yenna…"_

She panted hotly into Yennefer's mouth as she repeated her name like a mantra. Freya, Yennefer never heard her name spoken with such reverence, as though she worshipped Yennefer underneath her as some divine being. She wanted to hear her name spoken like that always, it made her feel so wonderful in a selfish way.

She curled her fingers inside of her impossibly deeper, and she came with a guttural sound whilst gazing into the depths of Triss' blue eyes, while Triss ground into her letting out a wanton moan in the form of Yennefer's name.

For a moment they just stayed locked together, their slick bodies quivering with the aftershocks of the intense moment, breathing hard into each other and just staring. Triss bit her lip adorably, and Yennefer couldn't help the large grin that nearly split her face as she surged forward to kiss those plump lips.

She rolled them over until she was hovering over a breathless Triss, kissing her deeply, holding her warm body close to her own.

"I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you," she whispered, fatigue lacing her breathy tone.

Triss brushed a strand of raven hair from Yennefer's forehead, gazing at her with a look that could only be strangely described as _forever._ And it was, Yennefer told herself. Being with Triss allowed her to open up to the most unfathomable possibilities, lifestyles that she always thought were meant for someone else, happy endings that could never be meant for her. Forever had always seemed like an unattainable dream, a wish, something one might read about but never actually experience.

Until she saved Triss' that fateful night.

Or rather, Triss saved _her._

"Tomorrow," she whispered back in a hushed voice, her fingers curling to the back of Yennefer's head, pulling her closer to her as she closed her eyes. "We begin the rest of our lives."


	26. Chapter 26

Yennefer stepped outside into the warm morning air, the sun rising early as it did in these parts. She inhaled the pollen rich scents that carried in the soft breeze, the knee-high meadow grass flowing almost enchantingly. Faintly, she could hear the buzzing of honeybees as they moved from flower to flower, never worrying about a shortage of sweet nectar.

She grasped her mug in front of her, taking a small sip of the aromatic, golden tea that it housed. It warmed her insides while the sun warmed her skin, and she closed her eyes but for a moment to enjoy the calm of the scenery before her.

Verdant meadows such as these couldn't be found in most places in the continent, certainly not in Vengerberg. It wasn't much of a matter to her, not until she really experienced it. Now it had her thinking that she and Triss should fly south for the winter more often, perhaps make it their new tradition. She would be hard pressed to find such beauty back home during such cold winter months.

They had arrived in Toussaint just a couple of weeks ago, but she had already fallen in love with the beautiful architecture in the city of Beauclair, and even more so out in the countryside where the vineyards stretched for miles, where the streams flowed crystal clear and where the sun seemed to shine the brightest. The only one who seemed to love it more was Triss.

Speaking of the woman-

"Good morning, my love." Her soft voice sounded from behind her, the familiar honey crisp scent overpowering that of Geralt's lush gardens on his property, as Triss pressed herself in behind her and wrapped her arms around Yennefer's slender waist.

"Good morning," she murmured back, removing a hand from her cup and placing it over Triss', her fingers rubbing soft patterns over her knuckles. "There's tea on. How did you sleep?"

"Wonderfully," Triss cooed into her hair. "I'm surprised to see you up before me, did you not sleep well?"

"I slept fine," she said honestly, turning in the woman's arms and pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "I think I'm just excited. Geralt should be arriving with Thunder today."

"That's right!" Triss said with an excited twinkle in her soulful blue eyes. "I can't wait to explore more of the countryside." She paused to admire the sunrise, her eyes flitting over the hills in the distance, over the property of Corvo Bianco as it slowly came to life, Geralt's staff emerging from their guest houses to feed the animals and tending to the rest of their duties. "Such a breathtaking view, isn't it?"

Yennefer wasn't looking. "I think I see something far more breathtaking than that-"

Triss giggled beautifully as Yennefer peppered kisses along her jaw, on the soft skin of her neck. "Come, darling, I'll start breakfast for us all. Ciri was out rather late last night slaying pests, I'm sure she's worked up an appetite."

"I think I did too," Yennefer growled suggestively, earning a playful glare from Triss.

"None of that talk at the table!"

"Noted."

They went back inside the manor, which she was still surprised by Geralt's…tastefulness. She had been half expected the place to be decorated by the heads of beasts, whilst the remainder being left untouched by any décor at all. But surprisingly, Ciri gave them the tour of a lovely manor, with beautiful imported carpeting and an elegant dining room, surrounded by not beasts but marvelous suits of gleaming armor, clean and untouched by monster blood. The beds were lovely and comfortable, dressed with the finest silk sheets. But it was then that Ciri explained that Geralt had very little to do with the furnishings himself, opting to instead put it in the hands of his Majordomo who took it upon himself to oversee all renovations.

She had to give Geralt credit though, where it was due. He did pick out the paintings, won himself the trophies. The women shared a laugh at his expense when Ciri showed them the master bedroom; sure enough, there was a risqué portrait depicting the Witcher lacking his armor…or clothes for that matter.

Supposedly, Geralt had no idea that the painting would turn out like that. But it didn't mean Yennefer wouldn't tease him relentlessly for it, regardless.

Triss got started on breakfast, while Yennefer finished readying herself for the day. Geralt was intent on ensuring they had the freshest food available, much of the vegetation grown and the meat raised right here in his own vineyard. She knew the man was never one for a lavish lifestyle such as she, but it seemed once he had a taste for living such a life that he might actually enjoy it. And Yennefer couldn't be happier for him, he deserved it, they all did.

She heard an enthusiastic thumping coming from downstairs, no doubt it was Ciri bounding her way into the kitchen at the smell of fresh bacon and eggs. When she heard the excitable exchange of voices coming from the kitchen, she knew she was right.

She sighed contently to herself and she put the finishing touches to her hair and went to join the women. Ciri was already sitting down, guzzling a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice before helping herself to a second, whilst simultaneously stabbing a pile of bacon with her fork and shoving it greedily into her mouth.

Yennefer chuckled, shaking her head. "You eat just like your father," she chastised, waggling her eyebrows at the young woman.

"Lay off," she smiled, speaking through a mouthful before swallowing. "I was up all night dealing with an _insane_ Archespore infestation at one of the vineyards, believe me when I say it was a workout."

"Archespore?" Triss questioned as she placed a plate in front of Yennefer, who whispered a thank you as her hand lingered on her own.

Ciri nodded after inhaling another mouthful. "Giant fuckin' plant like things. Venomous too, they can spit acid up to a hundred yards, so you gotta be quick on your feet. Be careful out there, you wouldn't want to run into them. Though, come to think of it, they are rather susceptible to fire."

"Shouldn't be a problem then," Triss winked at Yennefer and sat down alongside her. "So, are you too tired to show us more of the city today?"

"Of course not," Ciri said happily as she finished her plate. "Geralt shouldn't be here till late afternoon, I figured before that we could go see the Beauclair Palace! What do you say?"

"Gods, that would be wonderful!" Triss said excitedly. "It looked amazing from a distance, I would love to see it up close, as long as the Ducal Guard wouldn't mind?"

Ciri waved a hand dismissively. "Of course not, the Duchess is very open to visitors, especially friends of ours since we saved the city from Vampiric invasion. I'm sure she would be delighted to meet you!"

"It would be an honor," Yennefer said over her mug. "I heard she's a rather fiery woman."

"She is, passionate, but very kind. She really cares for her people," Ciri explained warmly. "Shame you couldn't have been here for the tournament, maybe we could all go next year? It's such an amazing time, the Palace hosts a series of games, plenty of food and wine and events."

"We will take you up on that," Yennefer said, the idea of attending such festivities beginning to grow on her now that she had ample time to do such things. "Well, I'll get the dishes if you two want to ready the horses?"

With that, she filled the sink and watched as the two women headed outside into the warmth of the shining sun, knowing in her heart it would be a marvelous day.

She couldn't keep the smile from her face.

* * *

After about an hours ride through the rolling green hills of Toussaint, they had reached the gates of the city of Beauclair. They opted to leave the horses with the stable boy who resided just outside, so they may walk at a leisurely pace through the cobbled roads in the direction of the palace. It as such an unbelievably beautiful day, coming there during Toussaint's winter months proved to be a wise decision. Yennefer imagined it must get rather warm in the dead of summer.

They marveled at the small shops they passed by along the way; it wasn't their first time strolling through Beauclair, but there was always more to see. The people were friendly, almost overly so if one was asking Yennefer's opinion, but even she had to admit that when she looked past their ridiculous dialogue she could see the appeal of the society here. It was a welcome change from the deplorable attitudes of Northern folk.

Beauclair was rather hilly in of itself, the roads stretching further upwards towards the magnificent palace that seemed to perch right on top of it, looking like something straight out of a fairy tale. Triss couldn't contain her gasp in awe when they approached the palace entrance; the architecture was divine, the white stone seemed to stretch for miles above their heads into elegant, slender towers with pointed burgundy rooftops. Balconies stretched all along the towers, allowing the sunlight to enter the palace, and offering spaces for one to enjoy the delightful breeze that came in from the countryside.

"By the _Gods_ ," Triss marveled beside them. "It's unlike any castle I've ever seen! The detail, the colors!"

Ciri beckoned them further up the road, which led into the grand palace. A group of Ducal Guard rounded the corner, led by a brawny bald sporting a bushy brown mustache, a look of recognizance passing over his features.

" _Ah_ , Cirilla!" he exclaimed jovially as he approached to stop in front of them. "You have returned to Toussaint I see!"

"Damian," she regarded, giving him a beaming smile. "You know I couldn't stay away. And I've brought friends to enjoy the beauty of your city," she turned to the two women, gesturing in a ridiculous manner. "May I present to you, Yennefer of Vengerberg, and Triss Marigold of Maribor!"

Yennefer gave him a respectful nod, "Pleasure to meet you, Damian."

"You're city is wonderful, truly," Triss added with a smile.

"The finest in the continent!" he barked boastfully, his great chest puffing up. "It is an honor to meet you, Lady Yennefer and Lady Marigold. Might I inquire what brings you to the Palace of Beauclair on this splendid day?"

"I was taking them on a tour of the Palace, to admire the beauties within up close. Actually, Damian, I was hoping Her Grace would have a moment to say hello?"

Damian suddenly looked a little terse. He straightened, looking down his bristled mustache at the women. "On the contrary, Lady Cirilla, Her Enlightened Ladyship is otherwise engaged at the moment. There is still much to tend to in the restoration of the city, from the-"

_"Damian!"_

If she thought the man had bristled before, he now stood ramrod straight, turning with a click of his heel in the direction that the voice had sounded.

Yennefer was even slightly taken aback by the woman that she saw. A picturesque of beauty, in a flowing golden gown with so many frills it would even put Dandelion's outfits to shame. Her chestnut hair matched the colors woven through out, the soft wavy locks were held in an elegant up-do, framed by a bedazzled golden crown, while the remainder flowed over delicate shoulders. Her features were sharp, but softened by large periwinkle blue eyes. Would have been even softer, if it weren't for the intense look on her face.

Her heels clicked on the cobblestone as she gracefully strode towards them, and Gods if Damian stood any straighter she was sure the man's back would snap. The remainder of the Ducal Guard followed in suit, and the scene was almost comical had she not felt so sorry for the man.

"Your Excell-"

"Now Damian," she said in a warning, abrasive tone. Her voice was feminine, but as sharp as a blade, the thick Toussaint accent only seeming to add to it. "I do hope you were inviting Cirilla and her company into the castle for tea, yes?"

"But of course, Your Grace," he responded quickly, and Yennefer mentally applauded his recovery.

"Good. I'll take it from here, back to your post."

"At once, Your Grace!"

The Duchess' eyes remained narrowed as her gaze followed the men until they were at a respectable distance, before her expression dissolved into one of warmth.

"Cirilla," she greeted happily, bowing her head when Ciri did the same.

"Your Grace," Ciri responded, a goofy smile lighting up her features. "I'm terribly sorry of we've caught you at a bad time-"

"Don't be ridiculous," the woman said with a wave of her elegant hand. "I will always make time for the heroes of Toussaint, I owe you as much. Who are your friends?"

Ciri cleared her throat, looking at the pair sheepishly. "As I was just telling Sir Damian, this is Yennefer of Vengerberg and Triss Merigold of Maribor." She said it with considerably less flourish, having repeated herself a second time, though it still managed to put an impressed look on the Duchess' face.

"Yennefer of Vengerberg and Triss Merigold of Maribor," she said in quiet awe, raising an eyebrow as she studied the two women. "The heroes of Sodden Hill, yes? Forgive me, if there is anything we in Toussaint adore, it is a good story. Come, to the patio."

They hadn't a choice but to follow the woman, as her tone left no room for debate. She walked at a brisk pace, forcing the other three women to match her, following her up the winding path to a elevated level of the palace. Servant boys rushed forth to pull their chairs for them, the tea seemingly appearing out of thin air.

"I will start by introducing myself," the beautiful brunette said immediately. "Anna Henrietta, Duchess of Toussaint, allow me to personally welcome you to our illustrious city!"

Yennefer and Triss bowed their heads respectfully. "Thank you, Your Grace," Yennefer spoke. "Toussaint certainly beautiful, we thank you for having us to the Palace as well."

"Nonsense," she said as she raised her dainty cup. "Any friends of Cirilla's is a friend of Toussaint, of myself surely. I am sure she told you of our… _problems_ , that had arisen? If it hadn't been for she and Geralt's heroic acts of Valor, my citizens would have suffered greatly."

"We're sorry for the hardship your city has faced," Triss said sympathetically. "One can admire the strength of your people."

"As one can admire the strength of yours, Miss Merigold. Word has traveled of the tyrannical King of Redania and the slaughter of his own people, the _brute!_ Should you ever wish to seek refuge here in my lands, you will be welcome with open arms. Tales of your bravery are quite renowned across the continent."

"Thank you, Your Grace."

"You must have heard," Ciri started slowly, carefully. "Of the King's _unfortunate_ passing?"

"Oh?" Anna Henrietta said, not sounding at all interested. "I suppose one who acts like a dog, will die a dogs death. Such is life. Now, have you had an opportunity to explore the city as of yet?"

"We have, Your Grace, we actually arrived a couple of weeks ago, Geralt should be arriving today on horseback. I cannot stress enough how wonderful our stay has been; the food, the scenery, it all has a magical quality to it," Triss said wistfully as she gazed over the balcony.

Yennefer hummed in agreement, following her gaze. "You're right, I imagine Toussaint produces some of the continents best artistry. Seems like a land fit for Dandelion-"

A sharp pain throbbed in her leg from where Ciri kicked her rather aggressively under the table. She turned to her daughter, her mouth agape in surprise and quite ready to demand an explanation for the outburst, when a fearful look on the ashen haired woman's face stopped her.

"Dandelion?"

The three of them turned to Anna Henrietta, whose magnificent features had suddenly twisted into a loathing scowl that had even Yennefer's heartrate slightly elevated. The Duchess seemed to notice that she had momentarily forgotten herself, and she quickly fixed her face into that of indifferent neutrality.

"Tell me," she said slowly, pretending to be interested in something in the distance. "How is Dandelion?"

Yennefer looked helplessly at Ciri, while Triss tried to remain as invisible as possible. "Well, he's-"

" _Terrible_ ," Ciri suddenly interjected in a loud voice, startling the table. "His inn in Novigrad is completely going under, most of the townsfolk refer to it as the cities absolute _worst_. He's losing coin by the day."

The corners of Anna Henrietta's lips curled into a smirk as she harrumphed to herself. "What a pity. I always knew the man was a fool, so much wasted potential."

"Yes, a fool," Yennefer agreed.

"Wasted indeed," Triss chimed in.

The women shared an awkward laugh at poor Dandelions expense, before one of the Duchess' page boys came half-running to the table, rather breathless as though he ran the entire spiraling road up the Palace.

"My most humble apologies," he said to the group, mostly to the Duchess herself. "Something has come up that requires Her Enlightened Ladyship's urgent attention!"

" _Ah!"_ Anna Henrietta spat, the scowl returning to her face. "I'm afraid it never stops as of late. I do apologize for my abruptness, the beast of Toussaint has wrecked a great deal of what little down time I have. It was lovely to meet you both, please feel free to explore the Palace further," She took Ciri's hands in her own, as her face changed for what seemed to be the hundredth time in just their short encounter. "And Cirilla, don't you and Geralt be strangers now, it would be lovely to catch up when the chaos ceases."

"Of course, Your Grace, it would be our honor."

With that they bid a brief farewell to the eccentric ruler of Toussaint, before quickly escaping the Palace and heading back to the streets of Beauclair.

"Okay," Yennefer started once they were out of earshot of any Ducal Guard. "What is the story with her and Dandelion?"

Ciri winced slightly as she glanced over her shoulder. "They have a bit of a…checkered history."

Triss gasped in disbelief. "Dandelion and-and _her!?"_

Ciri nodded coyly as she clicked her tongue. "I know, hard to believe, isn't it?"

Yennefer just shook her head with a smirk forming on her lips. "Leave it to Dandelion to go and fuck that up."

* * *

Yennefer hummed softly to herself as she fixed the saddlebag to Thunder's side. Geralt had returned a couple of days ago, though obviously she needed to give her mare some optimal rest after such a journey. She couldn't help but feel a little relieved upon seeing Thunder in one piece as Geralt came over the horizon; there was always room to worry with a Witcher on horseback.

She gave the mare a gentle pat when approaching footsteps caught her attention. It was Geralt striding towards her, a piece of parchment clutched in his glove.

She gave him a small smile as she tightened the saddle to Thunder and turned to face him. "Hello, Geralt. You slept in this morning, late night?"

He nodded, the corners of his lips twitching under his beard. "Had to show Ciri how to properly deal with some giant centipedes, it can be challenging without the use of Witcher signs. Here." He handed her the parchment, to which she unfurled to examine. "I drew up that map to the location we spoke of. It's only about an hours ride from here, and you'll be…uhh…well it's private, to say the least."

She trailed her gaze over the well-drawn map, memorizing it down to the last detail. The last thing she wanted was for Triss to get a glimpse of it and spoil the surprise. She tucked it to the bottom of the saddlebag, just in case.

"Thank you Geralt." She stopped a moment, lost in thought momentarily. She turned back to him, "Really. Thank you. For everything you've done for us, for me. Our life together has been… _interesting_ , to put it mildly. But it means so much to me that we have this now, our friendship. I've counted on you for so long…It feels good to know I can still do so."

Geralt just smiled a knowing smile in response, knowing nothing more needed to be said between them. He pulled her into a tight hug, one that felt so familiar, but so different now.

A good different. More unbreakable than it had felt before.

When they parted he jerked his head in the direction of the manor. "Go get your woman, Yen."

Her smile only grew at the reminder of the afternoon she had planned for just the two of them, and after mumbling another quick thanks she made her way back to the manor to do just that.

"Triss?" she called out once stepping over the threshold.

"Here I am, love."

She turned to the stairwell to see the redhead descending the steps. The sight of her caused her breath to be stolen from her lungs; she wore a deep, emerald dress, with trailing blue accents woven throughout that brought out her eyes magnificently. Her hair was down and flowing over her shoulders, pairing beautifully with how the dress seemed to flow with her, light and summery and oh so _perfect_.

She couldn't help but beam up at the woman. "Are you ready?"

Triss chuckled behind her hand as she arched a perfected eyebrow at her. "I've _been_ ready, waiting for you. What's with all the mystery?"

"In due time, my love, in due time," she soothed as she ran a gentle hand through her red locks. "You're beautiful, breathtaking, perfect."

Triss blushed a brilliant shade of red, responding to Yennefer's compliments by pressing a light kiss to her cheek-

-before an insufferable snort stole them from the moment entirely.

They whirled around to see Ciri holding back her laughter from where she had been watching from the table. "Yennefer," she said in between fits of giggles. "I did _not_ take you to be such an incredibly cheesy romantic-"

"I can show you many other sides of myself, ones that aren't so pleasant if you keep it up!" she warned with a glint in her violet eyes. Ciri just held up her hands defensively as she turned her attention back to her half eaten plate of food.

Yennefer rolled her eyes and tugged on Triss' arm as the redhead tried to hide her smile, leading her outside to the stables. She hoisted herself onto the mare before lending an arm to assist her lover, who gripped on tightly to her once she was mounted behind her. The feeling sent inexplicable butterflies through her stomach, making her feel giddy with happiness, as it did the last time they rode together.

With a kick of her heels they were off. She flicked the reigns to go faster, _faster_ , until she and Triss were laughing together at the sheer fun of it all. The wind whipping through their hair, the warmth it brought billowing through their loose clothing, the sound of Thunder's powerful hooves kicking into the dirt as the world around them blurred by.

It was exactly how she imagined it would be; carefree, exciting, and fulfilling as she could ever hope it to be.

She had memorized the map Geralt had given to her, turning expertly at every approaching bend, until the path they were following grew thinner and the forestry around them denser. She slowed to a light trot, taking a moment to smooth out her hair which had grown rather wild in the rushing air.

Triss gave her a small squeeze from behind, her breath tickling her ear as she leaned in and whispered, "so, where are you taking me?"

"It's a surprise," she murmured back, turning to glance at the woman. "We're almost there, have patience."

She led the mare left where the path forked, down a gentle slope into the thick of the trees. They passed a large, jagged rock that resembled the tooth of a lion, and she knew then that they had arrived.

An opening in the trees took them to what looked like a hidden away world, their own private oasis, and she heard Triss gasp in awe as she took in the scenery around them. It was a clearing hidden deep in the thick of the forest, surrounded by lush green trees with low hanging vines, creating a wall of privacy around them. In the center was a crystalline pond, the sparkling water so clear you could see right to the bottom. An opening in the top of the trees let in a dazzling ray of warm sunlight, lighting up the water as though it were made of sparkling glass. A small waterfall cascaded down from a vine-covered wall, the sound gentle and not at all overpowering.

"Freya," Triss whispered as Yennefer assisted her down from Thunder's back. "It's _beautiful_ , Yenna, how on earth did you find this place?"

"Geralt told me about it," she said softly, beaming at the woman. "It's as lovely as he described."

She went to the saddle bag and pulled out the bottle of wine she had stored away, along with a bag of bread and cheese. Finally, she fished out two glasses she had wrapped delicately in cloth, handing one to the woman. "Hungry?"

"Very, I didn't eat as per your instructions," Triss giggled.

"I didn't want you to spoil your appetite," she winked as they sat together on a warm rock by the water. She poured them each a glass of the wine, holding it up to Triss' to clink their glasses together in cheers.

"To us," she murmured, hoping her gaze held all the love she felt warming her heart. "And everything we've overcome together."

"To us," Triss repeated softly, pressing a chaste kiss to Yennefer's lips before taking a sip of the wine. Her eyes widened as the liquid passed her throat and she stared at the glass questioningly. "Yenna, I think this may be the most delicious wine I've ever tasted, where on _earth_ did you find this?"

Yennefer raised a brow, shooting the woman a knowing smile. "Sangreal, 1269 vintage. Courtesy of our dear witcher friend again. It is exclusive to the Ducal family, however the Duchess was kind enough to share some with Geralt and Ciri for their efforts. It is fantastic, I must say."

"It's _extraordinary!"_

"I know how you love Toussaint wine," she whispered as she pulled Triss closer to her. "I have one last surprise for you, sweet thing. A moment."

She handed her glass to Triss as she headed back to the saddlebag, leaving the woman's puzzled gaze trailing after her. She smiled as she slid out the large, leather bound book, made from the finest materials that she found in the most renowned shop of it's kind in the city. Following that, she grabbed the small bag which contained the expensive charcoals and quills, before returning back to the woman.

"What's this?" Triss asked curiously as Yennefer settled beside her again. Yennefer handed her the large book, along with the small velvet bag. Triss opened the cover, finding blank pages before her. She looked back to Yennefer, who then opened the small bag and pulled out a piece of charcoal and pressed it into her hand.

"I want you to draw me."

Triss face broke into a wide, dazzling grin, her cheeks taking on a pinkish hue as she glanced away shyly, adorably bashful. "Yenna…" she started.

"Please," Yennefer pleaded, touching her hand to Triss' elbow. "You're a wonderful artist, and I thought maybe…maybe you'd like to start a new book."

Triss bit her lip in excitement, as she turned her gaze to Yennefer once again.

"I'd love to."

Yennefer smiled, partially out of relief, and she went to down the remainder of her wine before Triss stopped her.

"No, keep it," she whispered, her mind already filling with ideas. "As a prop."

Yennefer raised her brow. "You'll have to top me off then, in that case."

Triss chuckled and complied, filling Yennefer's glass before setting it down. She bit her lip shyly again, her brows scrunched in thought. "Now…take off your clothes."

"You're the artist."

She turned so Triss could untie the lace that held her own dark summer gown together, before letting it pool at her feet and stepping out of it. She pulled down her underwear and discarded her bra, and turned to cock her hip in front of the woman, raising an eyebrow seductively. She enjoyed the bobbing of Triss' throat, the way her face seemed to flush at the sight of Yennefer's nude body every single time.

"Where do you want me?" she inquired softly.

"By the waterfall," Triss husked, her eyes flitting in that direction. She handed Yennefer the wine glass and watched as she made her way to the rock along the edge of the pool, sitting herself just beside the flowing water.

"No," Triss shook her head, smiling devilishly. "Wet your hair, sit just in front of it."

Yennefer frowned. "My hair?"

Triss chuckled at Yennefer's reluctance. " _Yes_ , silly. You look beautiful when your hair is wet."

Yennefer sighed as she obliged the "artist", wincing slightly as the cool water touched her skin and took care to not allow it to smudge her makeup. She flicked her hair backwards, leaving it a mess of natural dampened waves cascading over her shoulder, just covering her left breast slightly. "Happy?"

" _Mmm_ ," Triss hummed, her face growing ever redder. "Very. Now, feel free to move about, no need to sit there like a statue. I've drawn you many times before without you even knowing." The last line only furthered her blush when she realized what she said aloud, how one might consider it strange or even unflattering.

But Yennefer only found it endearing, knowing the extent of Triss' love for her. "I know, sweetheart," she assured with a soft smile. "I love all of your drawings."

Her words seemed to sate Triss and abated her misgivings as her face turned into one of confidence once more. "Okay," she whispered, and she set to work.

She could scarcely hear the faint scribbling on the parchment through the sounds of the waterfall behind her. She watched as Triss remained steadfast in concentration, every so often glancing up at Yennefer to catch a detail or memorize something in the scenery around her. Yennefer suddenly wished _she_ had such a talent for artistry as Triss did, for the woman did not know how beautiful she looked to Yennefer in this moment. Cradling the book in her gauntlet, her good arm moved fluidly over the page, the way her brow crinkled every so slightly or the way her jaw would set as she was thinking. Gods, the gleam in her eyes which were only magnified by the blue pool in front of her, Yennefer wished she could capture it all, the entire display making it easy to forget that it was she that was supposed to be the muse in this setting.

The cool water splashing over her shoulders made her skin shiver, her pink nipples standing hard under the clear rivulets, but she found she was not cold. Not with the way the sun beamed on her skin, not with the way Triss was looking at her, studying her.

She sipped her wine and got lost in the moment along with the other sorceress. She was aware of every sound, of the birds and the water, of the scribbling and her own heartbeat. If she were to imagine a perfect moment, in perhaps her entire existence, she would be hard pressed to find one such as glorious as this.

Time seemed to escape her. But of course it did, wasn't that always the way it worked when she was with the red haired beauty? With any moments of pure happiness? But she could revel in the fact that this moment, this feeling would not be fleeting. No, it would remain forever, as though etched in unmoving stone itself, so long as they had one another.

Before she knew it, Triss had ceased her scribbling. Instead, she was chewing her lip, examining the piece before her. Yennefer let her do so for some time, before she couldn't take her piquing curiosity any longer, and she stood from where she was sitting and made her way over to the woman.

"I think I'm done," she heard her whisper, her eyes never leaving the page, her blush growing deeper with every padded step Yennefer took towards her. "I can touch it up later, but…"

Slowly, she turned the book in her hand.

Yennefer felt a wave of emotion come over her as her eyes drank the image in hungrily, the creation that was born from Triss' skilled and attentive hand. Triss had this way of capturing Yennefer's beauty in a more authentic way than Yennefer saw herself. Better than any mirror, any reflection.

The picture depicted her sitting serenely under the waterfall; the rivulets were drawn with such realization that it looked as though the water was coming right off the page, her raven hair depicted as though she could reach out and touch it. Her eyes held a sultry emotion, and she wondered if that's truly how her expression looked while Triss sketched her, if Triss really did capture the way that Yennefer had been looking at her. Her body was exposed, but sat in an elegant pose that didn't quite reveal everything, but enough to make the viewer wish for _more._

It was-

" _Beautiful_ ," Yennefer breathed, as she ran her fingertips daintily over the page. "remarkable."

Triss glanced down to the page, before dragging her gaze back upwards to meet Yennefer's. "You think so?"

Yennefer had no more words. What could she say? What on earth could she possibly conjure in the form of linguistics that could ever hope to match how she felt in this moment? What could ever stand a chance to mirror the promising, wonderful things that Triss' drawing said, without actually saying anything at all?

She let her actions speak for her as she surged forth, capturing Triss' lips in her own. She moved gently against her, and she faintly her the sound of the book closing and gently being put down, before Triss had both hand and gauntlet on her skin. Yennefer's own hands roamed Triss' body through her sheer fitting dress, knowing her like a map, loving her like a Goddess.

If loving Geralt was madness, loving Triss was the very embodiment of chaos itself, as though harnessed from their very blood, burning into her skin, exploding impossible color behind her eyelids. Their love was unending, unrelenting, daunting and wonderful all at the same time. It was _seismic_ , it was _divine_ , loving the woman before her was enrapturing and wholly _incandescent_.

She cared not for any possible hardships to combat, they've proven time again that they could take anything thrown their way. What they had was unshakable, despite inevitable bumps in the road. Despite the healing that they both still needed. It would all come with time, and time they certainly had.

Being with Triss was loving infinitely, and she knew that love would be equally returned.

It was being open for the first time. It was being honest for the first time.

"I love you," she murmured against her lips, how many times exactly she couldn't recall. She said it like a mantra, into every inch of her skin, into every corner of her illuminated soul.

And she heard it echoed back, again and again, unfiltered and limitless, delicate and enthralling.

 _Infinitely_ , as one.

As it should be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sobs uncontrollably* That's all folks! Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story, to give me such glowing reviews, your kind words mean so much more to me than you know. I am currently working on my next Trissefer fiction, however with that being said I probably won't have the first chapter up for a couple of months. I take pride in updating consistently, and I like to ensure I have a few chapters written so I can always be sure to put something out each week. Again, thank you all for everything, and I hope to see you following along with my next work :D


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